Though I hardly know you I think I can tell, these are the reasons I think that we're ill.

Have you seen The Piano? I think I am obsessed with the idea of drowning. Septimus Warren Smith dreamed of drowning too. A few days before he took the plunge out of the window. I suppose once you give up the struggle it would be as easy as crossing a bridge. He's an explorer, like Darwin, the champion of humans. He simply passes through a green mist. He's tossed onto the shore, where he lies for the whole world-the battered soldier of death. In turn I let my head fall in a tub of water for I want to feel what he felt. He's able to describe his dreams to Lucrezia. She loves him but she's horrified. Even more so because he isn't. He should be. His naked eye is looking at the emptiness she cannot see. She cannot understand the madman's ludicrous fancy, that Violet could for Virginia. I want to be able to have that knack, you know. For saying the right thing. To save him from drowning. I want him to put his head on my knee, so that I can stroke it and kiss it. But for that I must save myself first. 

‘Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?’
‘That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,’ said the Cat.
‘I don’t much care where -’ said Alice.
‘Then it doesn't matter which way you go,’ said the Cat.

Alice's Theme - Danny Elfman
 S has impeccable taste. She should chuck what she's doing and become a wine connoisseur or something.

He wants to die where nobody can see him but the beauty of his death will carry on, so I don't believe him.

Half blind, half drowned, I turned around. Like always, I had difficulty describing what I saw. The island escaping my line of sight. The smell of salt. The scorching sun slowly baking my skin. The immensity of the sea. The periodic roaring of the waves that brought something new from the sea each time. Green. Blue. White. Everything together. Me. Here. I was a part of this. But I closed my eyes and I turned around. Like always, I was going back, taking this moment with me. I would relive it in my blanket many times in the years to come, for I was a coward.    

Ramin Djawadi- What Is Dead May Never Die