Drosophila,” I Said, Remembering The Word. “what?”

I Am A Classic 'star Trek' Fanatic.

When Is The Night Over? Is It The Start Of Sunrise Or The End Of It? Is It When You Finally Go To Sleep Or Simply When You Realize That You Have To?

We Are The Ones Who Take This Thing Called Music And Line It Up With This Thing Called Time. We Are The Ticking, We Are The Pulsing, We Are Underneath Every Part Of This Moment. And By Making The Moment Our Own, We Are Rendering It Timeless. There Is No Audience. There Are No Instruments. There Are Only Bodies And Thoughts And Murmurs And Looks. It's The Concert Rush To End All Concert Rushes, Because This Is What Matters. When The Heart Races, This Is What It's Racing Towards.

Bruises Mapped My Body From Bumping Into Tables And Tripping Over Curbs While Walking With A Book In My Hand, My Eyes Focused On The Pages Instead Of The Live Space Around Me.

I Thought About The Bigger Picture Of My Life, And About The People—and Particularly The Guys—i Would Encounter During My Lifetime. How Would I Ever Know When That Moment Was Right, When Expectation Met Anticipation And Formed … Connection?