Look at the way the sky slides through the clouds! When the sun shines gold like that, it makes you believe in magic, doesn’t it? I wonder what my future friends and lovers are doing right now; I wonder whether they’ve ever thought of me. That crack in the pavement is shaped like a broken heart; I wonder if anyone else has ever noticed that. The leaves on that tree seem to be waving at me. That man on the motorbike looks sad; I hope he smiles again soon. Butterflies are messengers; they drop dreams into our minds. That smelt exactly like seventeen and that makes me want to cry. Can you hear that creaking? That’s the sound my lungs make when I remember to breathe. Sometimes my life rises up inside me like the video of lava rising inside a volcano. I bet that old man has a lot of interesting stories to tell. I’d listen to them. This cappuccino tastes of hope. When it rains at bed-time, it feels like the world is taking my pain so I can have a good night’s sleep. Sometimes I feel jazz notes flash in my eyes. Will I remember this moment? Will I look back and laugh at my delusions of wisdom? Where will I be in a decade? Who will I be? What would happen if I walked into traffic? If I could just have this cashmere jumper, today would be okay. My life is a movie lacking a script. Sometimes I feel the world by osmosis; its vibrations make me tingle. Sometimes I have to close my eyes just to sigh. My soul has roots on this earth and and roots in the sky because there is no beginning to me, no end. I am a river. I am a thousand little mirrors reflecting the world. I am a mandala of energy. I think that, inside, I go on forever.