I passionately, recklessly even, immerse myself into the world of idealized thought, where the abstract meets the concrete; where joy is experienced through pain; where love is discovered amidst the brokenness. And while these thoughts challenge, impress, and embolden me, they remain just that: thoughts that are, quite literally, lost in my mind. Is there a tangible yet accurate, expressive but sincere, way to exact these thoughts? Or are my musings strictly imaginative, only to bemuse myself in order to superficially balance the tension between devoted belief and hypocritical lifestyle?

What to make of love, I’ve yet to discover. But my heart refuses to believe in anything else.