Dear Me, How I Love A Library.

The Yogic Sages Say That All The Pain Of A Human Life Is Caused By Words, As Is All The Joy. We Create Words To Define Our Experience And Those Words Bring Attendant Emotions That Jerk Us Around Like Dogs On A Leash. We Get Seduced By Our Own Mantras (i'm A Failure I'm Lonely I'm A Failure I'm Lonely) And We Become Monuments To Them. To Stop Talking For A While, Then, Is To Attempt To Strip Away The Power Of Words, To Stop Choking Ourselves With Words, To Liberate Ourselves From Our Suffocating Mantras.

I Think My Weakness As A Writer Is A Limited Imagination, And I Think My Strength Is A Talent For Reflecting The World, Or Sort Of Curating Things Out Of The World And Putting Them Into Books.

You Were Given Life; It Is Your Duty (and Also Your Entitlement As A Human Being) To Find Something Beautiful Within Life, No Matter How Slight.

I Want God To Play In My Bloodstream The Way Sunlight Amuses Itself On The Water.

I Have No Nostalgia For The Patriarchy, Please Believe Me. But What I Have Come To Realize Is That, When That Patriarchic System Was (rightfully) Dismantled, It Was Not Necessarily Replaced By Another Form Of Protection. What I Mean Is--i Never Thought To Ask A Suitor The Same Challenging Questions My Father Might Have Asked Him, In A Different Age.