I Work Only With Lost And Founds.

I Ask Myself: Is Every Story That Has Ever Been Written In This World, A Story Of Suffering And Affliction?

Today At School I Wrote An Essay About Flag Day Which Was So Beautiful, But Ever So Beautiful - For I Even Used Words Without Really Knowing What They Meant.

But Don't Forget, In The Meantime, That This Is The Season For Strawberries. Yes.

Putting My Hand In Someone Else’s Has Always Been My Definition Of Happiness. Before I Fall Asleep, Often - In That Small Struggle Not To Lose Consciousness And Go Into The Greater World - Often, Before I Get Up The Courage To Go Into The Vastness Of Sleep, I Pretend That Someone Has My Hand In Theirs, And Then I Go, Go To That Enormous Absence Of Form That Is Sleep. And When Even After That I Don’t Have Courage, I Dream.

Do You Ever Suddenly Find It Strange To Be Yourself?