In his mind, all is quiet. The obnoxious buzzes of  sharp street corners sway and fade, leaving everything still, like a blanket of snow. he treads lightly among the bracken- pebbles and trinkets that line street floors, desperate, crying to be heard. A child across the way stoops to examine her find; it glints and sparkles in her eyes as she rubs it upon a soft thumb. What could be more precious, more beautiful than the humble stone? more weather-worn than the weariest traveller, cherished more than the latest fad, brighter than the deepest of passions. Naturally, this isn't considered as he sweeps past her with a smile. His thoughts- those small, liquid bursts of hungry ideas- are upon the unknown. The shameless emotion embroidered within his features remains as he tilts his head towards the skies,  deep in consideration of this wonderful anonymous. He was full of love, in his heart and in his stomach, dizzy at the idea of someone who felt as he did.

Sometimes, I think the only way to express the way i feel is to create someone to express it for me.