There must be something wrong:
If everyone says they feel the same but if they love, they hate..
They go away under their straw roofs and hope that the fire is stopped by somone else–
because they’re too busy watching the ashes falling.
Someday– soon, I hope. We won’t just say pretty things to make ourselves feel better.. that includes you and me. I don’t want to keep going to an imaginary place to pretend everything is okay…
On the bright side: that imaginary place I go to keeps getting better and better. I have room if you want to move in.. 
Love you,
J.Schay
