I'm in the process of reading all of his/her older diary entries. I keep having to stop to breathe... to cry... I keep wondering where this person found the words, so sharp, knife-edge beauty trapped in a few short lines, burst of speech, then silence...

I am in awe. I am impressed. I am in lust.

I am also up at roughly noon for no reason other than because, well, I woke up. So I'm gonna stop writing for a little while, finish reading his diary, then come back and write some more. Reasonable? Too bad, I'm going to do it anyway. :-P