The Fellow Passenger On A Crashing Train

Even though I've just met you, I believe we will be friends.

First, I will tell you something about me, then you can tell me something about you, as that, I believe, is how friendship works.

Here is something I believe: I believe that people don't know how people work when they're young and maybe that's why we're so reckless with each other when we're young.

I think people think that people come and go, in and out of life and I think that school teaches them that, that life changes in big annual movements, that one year you're this and the next, you're that. But life blends into itself as you get older and you realise, you will watch a few, if not many, of your friends get old.

You will watch them lose their minds and their hair. You will watch them get sick and get better. You will watch them succeed and fail. You will watch them get married, get divorced, get pregnant and yes, eventually, you will watch them die. Or they will watch you die.

So this is what I believe friendship means. And I'm sorry to have to put such a heavy burden on you. But you have put the same burden on me.

Now you can tell me something you believe, as it is your turn, and this is how friendship works.

The Walls Are Made Of Lists

I hope one day you meet someone who can write a list of ways you're supposed to feel, and that you like every feeling on that list.

The Iron On These Tracks

Never stop and never settle but settle down for the one who let's you draw cities on their skin with the tips of your fingers.

Never stop and never settle but settle down for the one who knows that some people were taught to ask for help but never who to ask.

Never stop and never settle but settle down for the one who makes you want to be better.

And settle down.

The Stones From Other Houses

I wonder if houses miss each other.

I wonder if you can hear them creaking at night, in pain for some other structure they once knew.

A view from a window changed forever by a wrecking ball, a storm or a fire. A place where things used to live.

Why would the universe be so cruel, to build two so close to each other, only to take one away?

And what of the house you build, in the ruins?

The Voices In The House

If you ever wake up and your voice doesn't sound like your own, the only thing left to do, is scream.

The Most Beautiful Thing I've Never Written

It's easy.

You just wake up and say, "Today I will write the most beautiful thing I've ever written."

Then you fail and go to bed.

Then you wake up and say it again.

The Moments Directly Before And After

There are so many moments in life and each one must serve a purpose, to connect us from then, to there. So how couldn't you have known, that this would be one of them?