Craig Stone

A watched pot never boils, but if I took my eyes from these negative thoughts for a second they would spill over the edges of my lips, and boil the beautiful moment alive as we lived it.

They put money into attack, by calling it defence.

There__ only one Earth, and it__ tiny, but evil human leaders avoid problems they don__ want to resolve by giving them names which make the problems sound like they__e taking place in a different world: they make people not care about other people dying of starvation by calling the place the dying live __he third world.

My landlord lives in the flat at the bottom of the stairs. I rent a studio flat from him, and live at the top of the staircase. There are two more flights of stairs and four more flats, but it__ me he is obsessed with.

I was staying in a hotel in San Francisco for a couple of nights, before flying back to the UK. My hotel was a desperate grey block made from paper and people__ screams. At night the sound of strangers having icy sex echoed off the building and poured through the broken air conditioning, like tiny daggers I couldn't see, reminding me of just the tip of what I was missing.

The question should be who do we want to be when we grow up, not what.

Friday dusk becomes Friday evening. The park is feverish with life. A young Asian man screams into his mobile phone, not stopping to listen: a young man with his heart in his penis.

I listened to the crashing thundering of a tiny tear tumbling like a wave down her beautiful face.

I was just another lost soul screaming through the paper thin hotel walls into the ears of the fucked.

I stared up in disbelief at the information my eyes fed my brain, and lost myself to the stars.For the first time in my life I had a greater idea of how infinitesimally small our planet really is and, furthermore, how tiny and insignificant I am in the grand scheme of the vast universe.I took a seat on a rock next to Lily and took in the moment to comprehend the vastness of everything else, and the incredible smallness of I.

Love is born from disagreeing over something we believe in. Hate is born from disagreeing over something we fear.