So many of the things I've wanted are the things I've been taught to fear.

I watch the ashes swim around like dandelion puffs, making swirls where bodies and walls once stood.

I want to make a world more magical than my own. I don't care if it makes sense, I don't care if it's ridiculed or if, rather than a neat round planet that goes around forever, it ends with a cliff that falls off into nothing. I want to have my eyes wide open, and I want to see this room and at the same time, not this room.

I want to make the world into something better so that he can be okay.

Ah, love. That’s what the world has lost. There’s no more love, only the illusion of it.

Maybe it is desperation. Maybe we can't let things fall apart without trying. We can't let go of the people we love.

Kettle thingies. Yum.