yes:
tea: earl grey, matcha, oolong, starcraft, guitars, wine, scotch, e-mails, letters, music, writing, afternoons, the rain, karaoke, love


some days, i live with a mist, and i don't want to shake it, this dream-haze. it's this border between wakefulness and death, and i exist in all worlds, physically here, and emotionally, there, in the space of magic and the subconscious. when i was young, i thought i had to choose.

there was a doorframe, where i lingered. some people walk past doors, and they live in the world. there is only one. but i didn't. i wandered. sometimes i got lost. to some people, there is only one space, and it is their own. one universe of existing.

to me, there were many. i always picked when i was young. i would pick one, be happy and then slowly grow dissatisfied, pick another, and then slowly grow dissatisfied. i liked my spaces, belonged in none. the only place of comfort, was the uncomfortable frame, the gateway, the fences. the space that was both entrance and exit.