the darkness whispersand just as the light, it won’t allow sleepa mind full of messy, sleepless thingssmirks devilishly at its part in the deviant planshadows emerge upon the projection of lightthat sneaks under the door from the halland the air screams wildly at the top of its lungseyelids refuse to dropthoughts refuse to stopthey race…

you need something poeticfor your songlike seafoam green wallsbare and picture-lessa sun-soaked skyabove a crashing waterfallor a hat blown off in the winda crazy mind that can interpret numbersa child deep within the coves of slumberyou need a rhyme to make a dimesome guitar stringsand a little timesomething to sing aboutand a steady beatlike footsteps…

The ball rollsAnd bounces, tooCarried by the windAs it descends to the groundIt sits idle as gravity has placed itDiversion is the way of the ballIt dares to deflect worry and distress by Alexandra Foerster, ’09

When the night falls…I lie down to rest…When day breaks, I remember dreaming of the best…The thought is so strong that it puts aches in mychest…… but yet…I have no regrets…of…Dreaming of Tokyo…Long days of study and work all pay off when I comeback home…… no I’m not alone…… with my drink and my phone………

Everything in my life needs to be a certain specific way.Everywhere I go, whether I’m at work or at home, anything andeverything needs to be molded and crafted to meet my set of veryspecific standards and practices. For instance, at home I have a vastcollection of books and CD’s and I can’t just put them…

When I was a child,I dreamt of what I could do.I’d stand outsideOn a clear spring afternoon,Waiting to catch a butterfly on mytongue.I always wanted to catch a rainbow.I’d sit on the floor,Talking to inanimate objects,Hoping they were actually listening.I always wanted to advise a balloon.I’d sit in front of the fireplace,Consuming the warmth.And be…