And As Things Fell Apart, Nobody Paid

I Wasn't Acting On Passion. I Was Simply Acting.

But I Don't Want To Wear A Condom Because I Don't Feel Anything," And She Says Calmly... Glaring At Me,"if You Don't Use One You're Not Going To Feel Anything Anyway.

When We Sat Down To Eat I Took Inventory Of The People In The Room, And The Remnants Of My Good Mood Evaporated When I Realized How Very Little I Had In Common With Them – The Career Dads, The Responsible And Diligent Moms – And I Was Soon Filled With Dread And Loneliness. I Locked In On The Smug Feeling Of Superiority That Married Couples Give Off And That Permeated The Air – The Shared Assumptions, The Sweet And Contented Apathy, It All Lingered Everywhere – Despite The Absence In The Room Of Anyone Single At Which To Aim This.

I Kept Staring Into The Blackness Of The Woods, Drawn Into The Darkness As I Always Had Been. I Suddenly Realized How Alone I Was. (but This Is How You Travel, The Wind Whispered Back, This Is How You've Always Lived.)

I Think The Books Are The Books. They Were Conceived As Books. They Weren't Conceived As Movies. When I Write Scripts, That's An Idea And A Situation That I Think Is A Really Good Idea For A Movie. When I'm Writing A Book, I'm Not Thinking, "oh, This Would Be A Great Movie." This Would Be A Very Interesting Book. And I Think The Books Are Things That Cannot Really Be Adapted Into Another Medium.