Who am I? I'm just a writer. I write things down. I walk through your dreams and invent the future. Sure, I sink the boat of love, but that comes later. And yes, I swallow glass, but that comes later.

A man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river                     but then he’s still left with the river. A man takes his sadness and throws it away                                                                         but then he’s still left with his hands.

I swear, I end up feeling empty, like you've taken something out of me and I have to search my body for scars.

Oh, the things we invent when we are scared and want to be rescued.

Okay, so I’m the dragon. Big deal. You still get to be the hero.

The narrator blames the birds. And you want to blame the birds as well. I blamed the birds for a long time. But in this story everyone is hungry, even the birds. And at this point in the story so many things have gone wrong, so many bad decisions made, that it’s a wonder anyone would want to continue reading.

If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand.