...and not in the form of half-whatever-wins.

I sing with bluebirds, I run with the antelope. I scale mountain walls and dance at the top - I've read all the classics in every written language. I am wanted in forty two countries for wide-scale protests I passionately believed in!


I believe in dreaming, it's all I've really ever known to be my own. People falter and change their mind, but when I close my eyes I'll always be a super hero meant for greater things than you or I would ever be able to dream up - thus the absence of my long-deserved book. Everyone's something of an epic proportion, and I'm finally reaching out for my own lime light. Thoughts and soul and laughter, the greatest things in life are resonating within us.

Anne Morriss, A Starbucks customer from New York City. She describes herself as an “organization builder, restless American citizen, optimist.”

The irony of commitment is that it’s deeply liberating - in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.

I am a shadow, my act is that of the follower. I dance in your wake and sing your praises when you're feeling slightly lost. I am a jay bird, I skip across the morning dew and rest outside your window until you're tossing and turning with morning grog. I'm your morning paper - go on, count the newest death toll. I'm the dust beneath your boots and the sound of "your barbaric yawp", I am the hills that you've metaphorically climbed and the worst joke you've heard in the best of company. I'm in everything and I feel like the owner of nothing - I am lacking, I am yearning, I am giving away all the things that leave me feeling incomplete. I'm a wanderer, the hiss in the back of your mind that refuses to let you settle. I'm a pusher, a fighter, an excuse for all the malicious thoughts that cloud your mind when that particular individual passes you. I'm the cracks beneath the pavement that plague your superstitutious tendencies, following you throughout the day after you've stepped across and over and finally on top of me - accidentally. I'm an accident, I'm a beautiful accident with everything to offer and nowhere in mind.

lull; storm.

She pretended it was lace, that she was tracing the letter of an invitation to the greatest party anyone had ever thrown. Jay Gatsby would be put to shame, her imagination mused. In truth, it was the coarse paper of a cheaply constructed funeral invitation. She'd get dressed up nonetheless, burn it later and pretend she'd been worth a better announcement. Here lies all my hopes and dreams, the actual friend disappeared from her mind and was replaced with what her life should've been.

cozy up to me, let's see who can spit furthest.

Turn the page. Rip it out. Break the glass. Crash. Hear the crackle of the thunder? Pop snicker break boom rattle - EVERYTHING IS FALLING APART! - my head is caving in caving in swallowingmewhole I'm screaming tearing falling wearing dying gone gone gone!