This is home. Somewhere in between trying and giving up, is where it's located. Suspended in time and desperately trying to hold on to the idea that this night, this day, this morning, will be the time when you begin to remember. It's certainly not moving anymore, but that's OK because you could never catch up anyway. So you wander these streets, this boardwalk, this beach, and try to remember the sounds of the people that you never met, the rumble of the roller coaster that you never went on, and that promise of lights that never lit. After a while, expectations melt away, soon followed by aspirations, and at only this moment, you begin to finally understand what it is you're looking at. This is home, the place that lives inside you, the hope. Living in the afterlife is when you start to live; but then, out of nowhere, the roar of the jet star roller coaster, a shot of ozone in the nose, and a little voice in your head reminding you that the fire's not out yet......