Behind every coincidence, every stroke of luck, and every miracle, there is inevitably a cold and calculating mind.

In my hometown, the sky seemed endless . . . but there was nothing to see.

Behind every coincidence, every stroke of luck, and every miracle, there is inevitably a cold and calculating mind.

For us, the playground of fiction is just as important as reality

I am who I am and there’s nothing wrong with that. The days continue like they always have. They bring neither excessive desire nor despair. Nothing’s changed. Yet I’m overwhelmed with a sense of fulfillment. I’m right here. You’re over there. If I’m your savior, then you’re mine

Reality is such a pain. Those of us who were fed up with that kind of reality decided to remake it. We’d set up a partition, separate what’s important to us from what was trash, put only the things we loved on our side, and got rid of the rest.

I can't bring myself to trust you. But even if you were to betray me, and even if you were to become my enemy... would it be okay for me to love? Could you... let me love you?