I Think Looking Forward Will Be Better

„i Forgive You For Stealing My Shawl.“ She Smiles As He Laughs. And Then She Vanishes. A Simple Trick Of Distracting His Attention Long Enough To Slip Out Through The Hall, Despite The Lingering Temptation To Stay.

There Is A Movement Happening, A Quiet One. A Low-profile, Low-resolution Revolution. Comprised Of Writers And Dreamers, Of Guerrilla Artists And Thought-ninjas. Those With Something To Say. They Communicate Through Text Inscribed On True Public Spaces, Rather Than Blogs And Forums. Choosing Fewer Words, Even Without Being Bound By 140 Character Limits. Using Ink Instead Of Pixels. Sending Messages In Living, Breathing Space. Pens Scream Louder Into The Void. Even If Permanent Ink Is Not Aptly Named.

We Cannot Go Backward,' Marco Says. 'a Great Deal Is Not How It Used To Be.

Celia." He Says Without Looking Up At Her, "why Do We Wind Our Watch?" "because Everything Requires Energy," She Recites Obediently, Eyes Still Focused On Her Hand. "we Must Put Effort And Energy Into Anything We Wish To Change.

Because I Do Not Wish To Know,” He Says. “i Prefer To Remain Unenlightened, To Better Appreciate The Dark.