They Defy Gravity, As Good Books Should.

So What Do You Have To Confess Now?" I Don't Know Why I'm Saying Any Of This, Except That Is The Truth. "i'm Confessing That I Don't Know If I'm Ready For This." "what Is 'this'?" "being Open. Being Hurt. Liking. Not Being Liked. Seeing The Flicker On. Seeing The Flicker Off. Leaping. Falling. Crashing.

The Thing About Champagne,you Say, Unfoiling The Cork, Unwinding The Wire Restraint, Is That Is The Ultimate Associative Object. Every Time You Open A Bottle Of Champagne, It's A Celebration, So There's No Better Way Of Starting A Celebration Than Opening A Bottle Of Champagne. Every Time You Sip It, You're Sipping From All Those Other Celebrations. The Joy Accumulates Over Time.

A Sound Waiting To Be A Word.

You Are Happy Even If You Are Afraid To Admit It.

Instead I Head To The Computer And It's Like I Turn Into A Little Girl Who's Just Seen Her First Rainbow. I Get All Giddy And Nervous And Hopeful And Despairing And I Tell Myself Not To Look Obsessively At My Buddy List, But It Might As Well Be Projected Onto The Insides Of My Eyelids. At 8:05 His Name Pops Up, And I Start To Count. I Only Get To Twelve Before His Im Pops Up.