Floating is a fine thing.

She grabs her magazines, she packs her things, and she goes. She leaves the pictures hanging on the wall, she burns all her notes and she knows she's been here too few years to feel this old.

It is like substituting coffee for sleep, or drugs for people, or gods for personal responsibility, or disappearances for new beginnings (or even fair endings), or lies for love, or words for kisses, or something for nothing and nothing for something and it never ends and it is always always flat. And in the end, this is what it is like ...

I will remember these things, turn them over and over again in my mind -- and they will make me smile, quietly, somewhere deep inside my chest.

Floating is a fine thing, but hitting your head on the ceiling repeatedly -- it really starts to hurt after a while.

Because it was getting dark, and because the streets were crowded, I bumped into googolplex people. Who were they? Where were they going? What were they looking for? I wanted to hear their heartbeats, and I wanted them to hear mine.

"You can only become truly accomplished at something you love. Don't make money your goal. Instead, pursue the things you love doing, and do them so well that people can't take their eyes off you."
--Maya Angelou

"A cynical young person is almost the saddest sight to see because it means that he or she has gone from knowing nothing to believing in nothing."
--Maya Angelou