In solitude, I occupy the corners of my mind. In solitude, I talk to the Universe, and She is glorious. In solitude, I paint my dreams with vibrant colors. I embrace my fears and finally take that round-the-world trip. In solitude, I am an 11 year old me, scribbling notes in my journal and rinsing pencil lead from the side of my hand. It’s late, I’m tired, but never tired enough to turn the light out and fall asleep.