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' I think about death when I’m awake and the world is sleeping.  I think about heaven and angels and dying.  I see flowers.  I see flowers and colors and sometimes I see people.  Sometimes I hear them.  I’m never in reality.  When everyone else is living reality I’m living a dream.  My emotions are much deeper and longer lasting than other people.  I feel things that most people ignore out of ignorance or pure inability to feel.  I feel too much.  I feel so much that it hurts me to feel.  There is always more than little.  Everything we do, everything we feel, every soul we touch echoes on for eternity.  And that eternity can be seconds or forevermore.  Time is different here.  Time doesn’t exist here.  I dissect and evaluate the world around me.  The moon, the stars, the sun.  When I am lost or think too deeply I just remind myself that those things are just a part of me. Those things are me in a different form.  Those things are me eternal.  The thoughts that I choose not to divulge are the thoughts that haunt me, the thoughts from lifetimes ago.  I think too much about yesterday and I think too much about tomorrow too.  I don’t know why I do that.  Instead I should think about now.  I think too much about doing the right thing because I spent so much of my lives doing the wrong things.  I want to get it right this time.  I don’t want to forget this time.  I want to remember every tear, every heartache, every obstacle that I’ve overcome because I don’t want to ever go back to that place again.  I think it’s sad how everybody has hurt someone else.  And I think it’s sad because I think that sometimes people are so hurt inside themselves that they cannot help to hurt other people, even regardless of how carefully they’ve lived their lives to avoid doing so.  It breaks my heart again and again.  I think about sadness a lot.  Even within my happiness there is always sadness because I know that it can be taken away.  I don’t like living here.  I can’t wait to go home where everything is forever.  So I spend my days and nights in fields of flowers and stars.  We are all ghosts.  All ghosts are women. '

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