Somewhere in the darkness there lies a person named Sparrow, though that is only one of many names this person carries. Creating, Watching, Learning, Sleeping. One pastime was collecting before the collections seemed to be collecting their own collections and I was not involved in the process anymore. Now creating seems more important.
Inside is somewhere no one has met, outside is someone no one knows. Around things exist in only one way unless you look from a different angle that you can not reach. Weaves fight out from a source not known, to find existance on digital paper, to know dreams, to meet or not meet them as time creeps on past the light until morning. Goals to reach while others try and jump into the way to be reached as well, though the quarters are already at the bottom and have no need to be tossed in.
And as always, there is a path leading back, though it is already filled with footsteps.