Jennifer is sleeping. I am ten thousand people. An abstraction of the conception. I want to explore and fathom myself. After all, I haven't told a single person in the world. Not so much that I'm ashamed of my thoughts, but that I know how raw they are. Only it doesn't matter. Because people may be interested enough to actually ask me questions, or perhaps even reply, who knows?

I'm an abstract concept. I am not sitting in the middle of a room, but living in an infinite kaleidoscope in the sky. It is only temporary; and when I am passing through it, I am also joining it in a chorus of voices. The women in particular and my idea of what actually matters.