In Each Man's Heart There Lies A

I Sound Contemptuous, But I Am Not. I Am Interested--intrigued Even--by The Way Time Erases Real Lives, Leaving Only Vague Imprints. Blood And Spirit Fade Away So That Only Names And Dates Remain.

I'm Good With Words, But Not The Spoken Kind; I've Often Thought What A Marvelous Thing It Would Be If I Could Only Conduct Relationships On Paper.

There Were Two Now Where They Had Been Three. David's Death Had Dismantled The Triangle, And An Enclosed Space Was Now Open. Two Points Are Unreliable; With Nothing To Anchor Them, There Is Nothing To Stop Them Drifting In Opposite Directions. If It Is String That Binds, It Will Eventually Snap And The Points Will Separate; If Elastic, They Will Continue To Part, Further And Further, Until The Strain Reaches Its Limit And They Are Pulled Back With Such Speed That They Cannot Help But Collide With Devastating Force.

Thinking Of Nothing. Trying To Think Of Nothing. Thinking Of Everything.

She Was The Breeze On A Summer's Day, The First Drops Of Rain When The Earth Was Parched, Light From The Evening Star.