Beginning of Essay
I wouldn't know how to describe a painting or a sonata, but I can tell someone how I feel, though they rarely know what I mean. Words fail me often, but nobody notices. They aren't listening anyway. One person knows me. When I talk to him I feel like a knife in ....

Middle of Essay
.... genius and a slap in the face of this world. Always restless, searching for answers. Impulsive and inspired, writing down his thoughts. Funny stories about Elvis and his followers, the Elvi, or dirty poetry. Painting his visions on sheets that hang from the eaves or painting me with psychedelic designs. It doesn't matter which. All of it makes me want him more. Some things I say to him are like sour notes played too often. I'm out of tune. He always sings along. Our waltz is better than most, I suppose. We know the steps by heart. The world moves quickly around us and our quiet drunken pace, but we don't care. Our minds move quickly despit ....