Well, then.
A friend not seen in two and a half years; a teacher, the same; and a best friend who went to college down south, come home at last.
Dreams of New York City. Why won't they go away? Because in my heart of hearts, I don't want to quiet them.
Everything is about the story; but everything else is about the art. How do I balance these two desires? Would you let me stay, would you love me, would it be easy, if only I read War and Peace?
