It's The World, You Live In It,

A Certain Bohemian, Good-witch Sort Of Charm

I Feel Like There's Something Terrible And Wonderful And Amazing That's Just Beyond My Grasp. I Have Dreams About It. I Do Dream, By The Way. It Hovers Over Me At Odd Moments. And Then It's Gone. I Feel Like I'm Always On The Brink Of Something That Never Arrives. I Want To Either Have It Or Be Free Of It.

..this Indiscriminate Love Feels Entirely Serious To Her, As If Everything In The World Is Part Of A Vast, Inscrutable Intention And Everything In The World Has Its Own Secret Name, A Name That Cannot Be Conveyed In Language But Is Simply The Sight And Feel Of The Thing Itself.

Her Cake Is A Failure, But She Is Loved Anyway. She Is Loved, She Thinks, In More Or Less The Way The Gifts Will Be Appreciated: Because They Have Been Given With Good Intentions , Because They Exist, Because They Are Part Of A World In Which One Wants What One Gets.

What Do You Do When You're No Longer The Hero Of Your Own Story?