The Future Is The Past Waiting To Happen

And though you may not be able to imagine what I was like, I did live. More importantly, I loved.

The Next Stop

Only because it's still so raw and real. Soon I'll just be a series of images that sometimes flash through your mind, when you least expect it. And after that, only a few will stay. Then, one. A memory of a memory.

The Midnight That Lasted Forever

I do not have to look at the clock to know that it's midnight. I can feel the day rushing across the world, as fast as time.

But somewhere, there is a beach that time cannot reach. Where everyone and everything has always been and never was. And perhaps, you are there waiting for me.

In that place, time cannot touch.

The Dwindling Conversation

"You're beautiful."

Replied the fly, to the spider.

The B Train

I'd leave the memory of you at the station, if it didn't already know the way home.

The Bleach

You are your hair and your eyes and your thoughts. You are what you look at and what you feel and what you do about it. The light from the sun is still a part of the sun. My thoughts of you are as real as any part of you.

The Truth Is Born In Strange Places

Joan of Arc came back as a little girl in Japan, and her father told her to stop listening to her imaginary friends.

Elvis was born again in a small village in Sudan, he died hungry, age 9, never knowing what a guitar was.

Michelangelo was drafted into the military at age 18 in Korea, he painted his face black with shoe polish and learned to kill.

Jackson Pollock got told to stop making a mess, somewhere in Russia.

Hemingway, to this day, writes DVD instruction manuals somewhere in China. He's an old man on a factory line. You wouldn't recognise him.

Gandhi was born to a wealthy stockbroker in New York. He never forgave the world after his father threw himself from his office window, on the 21st floor.

And everyone, somewhere, is someone, if we only give them a chance.