I Think Men Who Can Cry Are

I Close My Eyes And I Take A Deep Breath And I Think About My Life And How I Ended Up This Way. I Think About The Ruin, Devastation And Wreckage I Have Caused To Myself And To Others. I Think About Self-hatred And Self-loathing. I Think About How And Why And What Happened And The Thoughts Come Easily, But The Answers Don't.

I Regretted Making A Comment About Dave Eggers. I’ve Never Said Anything About Mcsweeneys Except That I Admire What It Is, And I Think It’s Great That They Keep People Interested In Literature.

Everything I Know And I Am And I Have Seen Felt Done Past Present Past Now Then Before Now Seen Felt Done Hurt Felt Focus Into A Something Beyond Words Beyond Beyond Beyond And It Speaks Now And It Says. Stay. Fight. Live. Take It.

We Stare Into Each Other's Eyes And Softly Kiss Speaking And Saying More With The Movement Of Our Lips And The Tips Of Our Fingers Than Words Will Allow Us To Say. Words Can't Say This. The One Word Love Means Too Little For What It Is. It Means Everything And That Is Still Not Enough. It Doesn't Communicate Even A Fraction Of The Feelings Involved. Love. The Word Is Not Enough For What It Is. Love. Love.

I Think, Living In America, We're So Bombarded With God All The Time That In Certain Ways I'm Making Statements Against That Bombardment, You Know? I Think It's Crazy. I Mean, I Don't Believe In God. I Don't Believe In Anything. But I Still Think About It. And I Still Write About It.