We agreed to love each other madly.

We fumed and screamed in our mountain nook, mad drunken Americans in the mighty land. We were on the roof of America and all we could do was yell, I guess - across the night.

You'd be surprised how little I knew even up to yesterday

It was my dream that screwed up, the stupid hearthside idea that it would be wonderful to follow one great red line across America instead of trying various roads and routes.

It was a rainy night. It was the myth of the rainy night.

I came to a point where I needed solitude and just stop the machine of ‘thinking’ and ‘enjoying’ what they call ‘living’, I just wanted to lie in the grass and look at the clouds.

It made me think that everything was about to arrive - the moment when you know all and everything is decided forever.