Sometimes she cries
When she’s alone at night
Sometimes she weeps
When she's feeling cold and weak
Sometimes the pain
It just tears her up inside
Sometimes she cries
Oh, I wonder why
(Jani Lane)


My friends make bets on the day that I’m finally gonna come undone. I reckon they will all win, eventually. Because dismantling oneself is a process, you know. It develops over time, and can be really endearing to watch, if you can appreciate the art involved. First, off come the smallest parts of you, the very teeny, tiny ones. Then follow the bigger pieces, the ones the size of small worlds, important dreams or even as large as undying hopes. In the final stage, the bolts all pop out, and there are no two parts left together, like what happens to cheap furniture in a damp room.