All I Get Is Tomorrow.

I Always Think Of Each Night As A Song. Or Each Moment As A Song. But Now I'm Seeing We Don't Live In A Single Song. We Move From Song To Song, From Lyric To Lyric, From Chord To Chord. There Is No Ending Here. It's An Infinite Playlist.

That No Matter What I Did, I Would Always Be Missing Something Else. And The Only Way To Live, The Only Way To Be Happy, Was To Make Sure The Things I Didn't Miss Meant More To Me Than The Things I Missed.

It's Almost Heartening To Think That The Attachment You Have Can Define Your Perception As Much As Any Other Influence.

The Most Understandable Thing In The World Should Be How Minutes Lead To Hours, How Hours Lead To Days, How Days Can Make A Year. And Yet, This Neat Progression Can Still Be Surprising.

If There Wasn't A Word For It, Would We Realize Our Masochism As Much?