Heaven... I'm in heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.
I'm in the strange position of the world drifting away from me, but you know what? I'm actually quite content with that. It doesn't bother me in the slightest. I don't feel like, 'Oh God, I'm being left behind.'
I guess I just tend to feel at home wherever I go.
I remember one morning getting up at dawn, there was such a sense of possibility. You know, that feeling? And I remember thinking to myself: So, this is the beginning of happiness. This is where it starts. And of course there will always be more. It never occurred to me it wasn't the beginning. It was happiness. It was the moment. Right then.
The places I visit in any given week are my home, so when I'm somewhere that feels good to me, it's a real game changer. If a place causes me to have a strong reaction, be it positive or negative, it'll often find its way into my music.
Everything was fine, and she had the rare, new sensation of being exactly where she wanted to be.
I suppose home is, for me, more of a state of mind. It's really more of about being where I want to be with people I care about.
Paris just exudes love and romance and, for me personally, hope and joy and faith, too; it just means so much to me. That place made me feel so happy and so safe, and my spirit was just so full of joy.
