There’s irony, hypocrisy, fallacy, a vast ocean of distance to cross. The “saint”, the “sinner”, it’s lunacy, that the ignorant could save the lost.

I’m not belle of the ball, not the very least, but we have something in common, I’m in love with a beast. But the beast is not a person but a drug that I call meth, I’ve been talking to myself for hours, I’m running out of breath.

Nostalgia is a gentle haze, a soft and fading, golden maze, where time itself begins to blur, and memory’s touch is sweet and pure.

Our team was blown away by this beautiful painting.

Don't fear my love, everything’s alright. Don't fear my friends, the future looks bright.

Love’s definition cannot be just one, not one, two or more but a tonne. Love is the greatest quality of them all, a verse written by the poet Paul.

I sit here watching the second-hand ticking by as it slowly keeps passing my time... And just as I thought the world can’t be changed it's an apocalypse of the mind.

My happy place is knowing inside my heart that I will do better for me. I’ll see the world in a different way.

“Go to the lookout. Ring the bells when they’re near the castle. I’ll prepare for battle.”

What a joy it can be, to wrench open your mind and find yourself inhabiting a song. To live out a thousand lives, to know the intimacy of a stranger, and experience nostalgia in such a visceral way for times and places you’ve never been to.