I. Vegas Baby

Such an admixture of styles...

As a younger girl I'd think up fiction all day. Everywhere I went, my little lavender cat modeled perfectly after Espeon, who defied gravity and had telekinetic powers, would be beside me. Together we'd find some new disaster to be a part of.

The Luxor:

Conceptually, imagination sits at the very top of a pyramid, emitting a beacon of white into the starless city sky

or the unknowns of the mind (the mind: no less vast than the universe).

The first time you run up there with your little legs, it's so easy to stay.

But when the glass blocks of the bottom begin crumbling, you step down. Your skin creases, your heartbeat slows; you take responsibility and you rebuild.

You can't perch there and shine your light forever.

II. TERRA and the American Heartland

On the edge of western civilization lies the great divide, and perch I do, on the rocky edge where my heart belongs. Little colonies of bone and wood and steel across the badlands.

In the evenings, back in the city of lights, I return to a dying breed.

While the world, alive and aloud:

I press up against the window panes from my tower, look out upon the kingdom, the lights, the frenzy...

Where's my little King?

III. Marino

I rode along the pacific sunset today, the turbulence of the bus like thundering stallion hooves.

I could dive through the window and go straight for the sea:

here to eternity, one night only.

--When I come back

This friend of mine, he's such an animal--

The truth is that "you know nothing of loneliness"

pervades him deep inside but I,

I'd like to believe that the cover of a book tells the story at times.

IV. Ascension

"In the end, Lost is really a study of character."

Isn't it beautiful? That we'll never see these people again?

Vladimir and his wife are on a boat back to Chechnya,

the old Indian man will finally have his kid Amit settle down,

and I'll see you in Bahrain.

I could never be in sunny California because I could never be sunny in California.

Like the waters, a parting word:

If you stand too long in the Pacific, the sea will curl at you, woo you with its lush ebb.

And you'll notice little by little that your feet have joined the sand.

It takes a while for them to sink in, but you need only to lift your legs

and all is awash again,

and you'll be on your way.