Living and writing it down,

but not wanting it to sound real.

Breathing and thinking and hoping that everyone feels as crazy and good and blessed and bizarre and ungrateful as you do.

Speaking to a stranger on the bus and not noticing the rip in his overcoat or ignoring the slur on his tongue when he tries to tell you about his life and how his wife left. She was beautiful.

Taking what you're given because you're too shy to get what you really want, or you don't want to come across as pushy, because that's just what people do sometimes.

Not speaking what is in your mind, even though you both know what isn't being said.

Becoming what you are SUPPOSED to become, not what you dreamed about under the sailboat quilt in your childhood bedroom.

Realizing that a dream is just that: a dream. Until you do something about it.

Not being able to see the worst in people, even though they lie, they're scared, and they break your heart.

Going slow and just noticing: the way babies unabashedly stare each other down; how most people don't seem to care that they're talking really loud about really personal things in really public areas; the way saying I love you sounds so simple, but just feeling it can save your life.