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.

Three years after she sneaked in, World’s Happiest Dog® is queen
If you believe petitions truly matter, here’s one we can really get behind
An emotional vampire craves you, but he doesn’t know how to love
If majority rule is such a great idea, why don’t we vote on toothpaste?
Being disconnected from love as close to hell as we’ll find on Earth
A year after surreal experience of surgery, I’m still happy to be alive
Obama’s new ‘AttackWatch.com’ website smells like political fear
Love & Hope — Episode 13:
Being in love shows us who we can choose to be at our very best