My own survival required me to counterbalance interesting with invisible.
The truth may not be told. Here is an acceptable lie.
If I could keep a single moment for all time, that would be the one. I became the very air; I was full of stars.
Heaven has fashioned a knife of irony to stab me with.
The world is seldom so simple that it hinges on us alone.
Metaphor is awkward, but emotion, by its nature, leaves you no more scalable approach.