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I feel the sunrise in the alley; the rain has stopped drumming on my windows and a smile comes across my once weary and teary eyed face. The music finds its volume again, and a maddening piano sends a fury of force up my spine and into my now focused mind. I am here to be of service, to light fires along the path so that they may provide direction for another. I cannot see behind me, and I do not know how this will make you feel – and the beautiful truth is that it matters none to me. I have received whatever it is I should receive from this, and though I hope you wake with happiness in your heart, I know I cannot worry myself. I have no control – I am but a writer and a poor boy who has found my heart ripened because I can send my thoughts into the ether. I am always a part of this when I take myself out of it.
