It's curiously warm in here.

When an atom becomes a world, when birth is death, my ego is calling... The universe became a glass ball, keeping all the pain out. Or is it really locked in. Nights turn into days and my last cigarette is smoked. I long for the morning cup of coffee. A new day. Bigger than me, what will you bring to me then.

I can heat the planes, the brakes of a squeeling vehical passing. The murmers of a train and the leaves brushing against concrete with the wind. Am I the only one here? No ego, I am right here with you she says.

I am glad to share with you on this curiously warm night.