All Paths Lead Nowhere; Choose One With

The Kernel, The Soul - Let Us Go Further And Say The Substance, The Bulk, The Actual And Valuable Material Of All Human Utterances - Is Plagiarism.

I'm Learning To Hate The Sound Of My Own Voice.

I Listen To Music All The Time. I Write While Listening To Music. And I Tell Myself That The Music Nourishes The Art Forms That I Do Master And Domesticate, And Have Authority Over.

How Often Had That Hydrant Even Been Opened? Did You Jet Water Through A Car Window, What, Twice At Best? Summer Burned Just A Few Afternoons Long, In The End. As For Flying, Dose Never Even Glanced At The Sky. Flying Was A Summer Within A Summer, A Whim. So Why Think Of It At All?

Apologies Aren't Something You Want To Get In The Habit Of Practicing In The Mirror