Selling my parts...

But sometimes, unexpectedly, grief pounded over him in waves that left him gasping; and when the waves washed back, he found himself looking out over a brackish wreck which was illumined in a light so lucid, so heartsick and empty, that he could hardly remember that the world had ever been anything but dead.

In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun. This is how I would describe my sorrows and desires, the thoughts that pass through my mind and my belief in some kind of beauty. It might not be much, but this is how I see the world with heartfelt, silent, humble sincerity and, I am sure, when I express myself, to use the things around me, the images from my dreams, and the relationships that only exists in my fantasies.