20/11/16: Echoes of piano drift to the wind as it washes through the window, straight from the sea. Tonight, I am solid in shape, sitting still and staring out, trying to see the edge of things, trying to feel it fall away. Tonight, I think of all these words from a smaller, gentler time, of all the things that have happened since there, of how much that weighs. Of me singing at a wedding, the lifting notes broken by dread and terror and unfettered love. I think of how nothing here is tied to anything, how it could all just float away, any moment. I think of how close we all are to the corners, how fast the drop can be, and how far. I think how all that I have is an image in my head of something that might or might not happen and how it's loss and proximity lifts me and shatters me together.