Our lives are fictions, a work we leave behind, signed.

Your mouth on mine our bridge to cross and serve where we would go. Utopia of sensations the flesh could never know.

Essentially 'Flight' is just an adventure of multiple realities.

We can have a World War, I see absolutely no reason why we shouldn't have a World Party.

It's weird how people who are the least close to me or who've never even met me purport to be experts on the real me; and then, sadly, there are those who could be in touch with me but prefer to gossip with strangers about me instead.

We call interconnected order beautiful. When interrupted, we call it chaos.

When we love there is no reason why.