[M]

I enjoy standing outside late at night in October, watching low altitude clouds kiss the rooftops of buildings across the street. I often imagine myself grasping one with my outstretched hand, as if holding the paper handle affixed to a soft pillow of blueberry cotton candy. I close my eyes and let the wind surround me, breathing deeply as I silently wish that cloud would carry me away; past neighbors walking their dogs while juggling cell phones and lattes, over trees and lampposts, high above cars crawling like beetles on the sandbanks of a winding concrete river, and through the towering, stoic skyscrapers that remind me of the enormity of this world. I have come to understand that I am happiest existing between things, despite spending the majority of my time alone, because I'm able to reminisce while looking forward to the excitement of something new. Things that come to mind: chapters in a novel that captivate me to the point of wanting its reality to be my own, headphones playing songs on an album heard for the first time that I wish would never end, passing through phases of my life... all three hundred of them.

I look at my apartment and an assortment of records, films, and books, yearning for giant bay windows with a view to the sea. I want nothing more than to stare at my reflection in brushstrokes of rain on the window while smoking a cigarette and listening to the pitter-patter cymbals behind Billie’s voice on a New York night many years ago.

My days are best spent standing still on a busy street, watching a cast of strangers perform on an afternoon stage in the theatre of life.

I enjoy long walks at night, immersed in the vast stillness of a starry sky above my head.

I have a mild aversion to eye contact, although I feel it is tremendously important in human interaction. Many perceive this as insincerity, but it is simply because I am shy. There is something about looking directly into the eyes of another person that is extremely powerful and it often overwhelms me.

Paris is by far my favorite city in the world, although I haven’t visited enough cities to validate my claim with absolute certainty. It’s just a feeling I have and it works for me. I often feel I was born a part of the wrong generation and tend to romanticize life in post-war Paris during the late forties. If I had my way, I would be typing this on the banks of the Seine with, what many consider to be, a real coffee by my side. A cute French girl wouldn’t hurt, either.

Mundane conversations make me want to sleepwalk into a world composed of View-Master reels, hi-fi audio, bubble wrap, endless rows of spicy tuna maki, and fresh bed sheets.

I love meeting someone and knowing within 5 minutes that we share a deep, meaningful connection that doesn’t require verbal acknowledgement.

I wish space travel wasn’t so expensive because I would really like to have a picnic with the stars. One of my current projects is to build a rocket from empty cereal boxes and tin foil. Red wine is my favorite drink and if we split a couple of bottles, I’m bound to get passionate about something or someone. Another page in the book has turned and with each blink of my eyes, the story continues. Once finished, I will turn the book upside down and shake the letters out to create an entirely new story for all of you to read.