“During the day I would move my body to the rhythm that only I could hear. I would try and connect with everything in my surroundings thinking that it somehow connected to who I was and was secretly sending me messages about what was in my soul.”

“I thought about the bigger picture of my life, and about the people—and particularly the guys—I would encounter during my lifetime. How would I ever know when that moment was right, when expectation met anticipation and formed … connection?”

“And I couldn't help but think about the time during the operation when there was nothing in my check: when they removed my heart, and before they put the other hear tin. When I was connected to the heart and lunch machine. When I was technically dead....But I wasn't dead now...”

“During my most difficult days, I text message God. I know I can just say a prayer and He'll hear me, but just in case He's really busy... He can read my message later! :)”

“I remember how, as a boy, I used to collect the cork tips of my father's cigarettes and stick them in my stamp albums. I believed they contained his unspoken words, which one day would explain everything. I have not changed. Now I explore my memories, trying to discover the substructure hidden beneath my past actions, searching for the link to connect them all.”

“Sitting there that day, I knew that the only thing I could do was keep putting one foot in front of the other, hoping none of the secrets on my shoulders would make me lose my balance.”