Mercy.Merci. Grace.Gracias.

I'm glad. That my parents' bed is just big enough for all of us to fit on. That my daddy still hugs me. & That my brother throws me around (i know it's in love).

Someday, death might separate us for a while... so that's why moments like last night make me so grateful that we could all pile onto one bed, together in time, and thank God for making us into a family.

Man.

I love when a boy wears uggs.

When we cannot speak. We speak in rhymes.

Un débordement de la poésie délicieuse. Le genre qui ne parle pas de mots. Il repose dans l'air, dans nos esprits ... Il ramasse mon âme et me conduit dans des endroits où la danse des lourde esprits, me prend à l'endroit où les voix montent et descendent, avec les lumières dans le tissu de l'espace, et la vérité se trouve sur chaque fontaine. Tous les puits sont pleins.

«L'amour nous élève jusqu'à l'endroit où nous appartenons."

Retrospect

• I wish I would have stopped and talked to the traveling youth sitting in the sun on Statestreet.
• I wish I could have thought of something to say to the Hindu lady who told me to "Have a nice meditation" while I was watching the sunrise.
• I wish could have gotten into Mr. Perea's class.
• I wish I knew the people that lived in my neighborhood.
• I wish it were easier to know how to say the words hidden inside me.
• I wish I lived on a farm near Budapest (today, at least).