Most of the stuff I say is true because I saw it in a dream and I don't have the presence of mind to make up lies when I'm asleep.
The plumber was digging around in the pipes and he saw something shine in the muck and it turned out to be the soul of the last tenant. He gave it to me and I said I wonder how we can return it and he shrugged and said he found stuff like that all the time. You'd be amazed what people lose, he said.
I once had a garden filled with flowers that grew only on dark thoughts, but they need constant attention and one day I decided I had better things to do.
She kept asking if the stories were true. I kept asking her if it mattered. We finally gave up. She was looking for a place to stand, and I wanted a place to fly.
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We lay there and looked up at the night sky & she told me about stars called blue squares and red swirls & I told her I’d never heard of them. Of course not, she said, the really important stuff they never tell you. You have to imagine it on your own.
She's willing to accept that she creates her own reality except for some of the parts where she can't help but wonder what the hell she was thinking.
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