It’s always the worst at night. I have no idea why.
That’s when the images and sounds flood my mind. It’s as though someone made a movie and I saw only the first part. I loved the movie and wanted to see all of it. I loved it so much that I wanted to live in it, but I couldn’t.
And then someone had all the images and sounds and smells and emotions from the rest of that movie — and feeds bits and pieces of them to me at random times. It’s warm and loving images of love and family and home and everything I’ve ever wanted.
There‘s a projector on the inside of my skull — and someone plays those images. What I see teases me and torments me, but I can’t make them go away. I don‘t even know whether I want them to go away.
She’s always there. But she’s not really there.

Does the ocean offer the best chance of escaping the state?
How to exploit school kids to get elected to almost any office
As we enjoyed the sunset together, language and borders didn’t matter
A culture which defines itself by consumption has lost its values
Roy Moore just the latest in the long line of politicians who want control
Meeting with dead man left me pondering choices of life, death
AUDIO: We rarely realize we’re wasting our lives ’til it’s too late
What demons cause us to abandon one who offers what we need?
NOTEBOOK: Why do so many libertarians need One True Way?