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I've been like this for as long as I can remember, and by this time next year, I'll change. I'm not coming back.1

Ever
- Demitri
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Rain
July 16th, 11:00 p.m.2

I breath in the cool air of the night, but I can't find the moon. To me, it is an invisible mystery. Where are you? I am like the moon; grey, mysterious, and most of all, invisible. My thoughts twinkle like the stars in the space of my brain and my hopes trickle and burn out just like my love. But just like real stars, the light is to be remembered long after. 3

Music is my sun.4

I am lying on my back in a vacant lot and there is nothing around to restrict my view; no one to restrict my thoughts. The grass is soft and lush under my bare back and my legs itch from exposure. I wish my brother could see this, but he can't see. My brother is a child prodigy, another Beethoven, but no matter what he accomplishes or how famous he gets, he is never happy. He does not wish for fame. He does what he does because he loves it only. If he could shut the whole world out forever and have just music, he would. All he wants is two things:5

1. To lay on his back like I am at this moment and see the stars. and6

2. To have peace7

My brother, he will never get either. This is why, often, he dreams aloud about heaven. I believe my brother loves the thought of heaven more then even those two things above.8

I pray to God every-night that my brother will get his heaven. I pray everynight that he will not die tomorrow. One day, my prayer will not be answered, but like many, I pray nevertheless.