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.

New information demands that I change some of what I think I am
Years later, my heart still fears hearing, ‘Who moved my belt?!’
Living behind a mask means you won’t allow real self to be loved
Attaining excellence may require some time in painful mediocrity
From hole I’ve fallen into today, world is a very alienating place
To fall in love is to play with fire, but our deep need justifies risks
Maybe it’s so hard to love others because we don’t love ourselves
Obama: ‘…all the choices we’ve made have been the right ones…’
FRIDAY FUNNIES