“I am again in the present and awake. I close my eyes and am desperately trying to recapture the childhood memory. Now, however, I have to cross an abyss….”

“On the streets of the city They have taken my Who-I-Am As well as my What-I-Was And now I am desperate for them both Again”

“I construct my memories with my present. I am lost, abandoned in the present. I try in vain to rejoin the past: I cannot escape.”

“My world slowed and I closed my eyes. “I am going to give you my heart now,” I whispered. “Please don’t break it again.”

“Perhaps I am his hope. But then she is his present. And if she is his present, I am not his present. Therefore, I am not, and I wonder why no-one has noticed I am dead and taken the trouble to bury me. For I am utterly collapsed. I lounge with glazed eyes, or weep tears of sheer weakness.All people seem criminally irrelevant. I ignore everyone and everything, and, if crossed or interrupted in my decay, hate. Nature is only the irking weather and flowers crude reminders of stale states of being.”

“Actually, I am kind of busy right now,” I drawled as I settled back into the chair and closed my eyes. “You have to make melanin while the sun shines.”