As I finally put the book down, I can once again feel my heartbeat pacing at a much quicker pace. The voices whisper, "call me by my name" and once again the thought slides across my brain, the part that is always comparing my life and creative force with that of others. I really wish I had come up with that concept and that title myself and had written a most beautiful work of fiction that would give honour to the beauty that the words emanate and pulsate out whenever I read them or speak them aloud. Something very physiological has occurred to my brain with this book, this story, painstakingly written down for me to remember what it feels like to be innocent all over again, to be in really close physical contact with other like-hearted and like minded humans. To be interested in the human condition all over again, its superficialities and dramas. I often wonder what it feels like to be a regular human being with regular emotions, regular experiences, regular relationships ...