I Think, The World Is Actually Huge.

A Swell Of Gratitude And Appreciation For His Assistant, As Opposed To The Murderous Rage He Felt Toward The Rest Of His Staff

So I Feel That Lack Of Qualification. And I'm Scared. And I Have A Tendency To Think Things May Not/probably Won't Work Out. That's My Basic Mindset.

We Stand There, Quiet. My Questions All Seem Wrong: How Did You Get So Old? Was It All At Once, In A Day, Or Did You Peter Out Bit By Bit? When Did You Stop Having Parties? Did Everyone Else Get Old Too, Or Was It Just You? Are Other People Still Here, Hiding In The Palm Trees Or Holding Their Breath Underwater? When Did You Last Swim Your Laps? Do Your Bones Hurt? Did You Know This Was Coming And Hide That You Knew, Or Did It Ambush You From Behind?

That Adage About 'write What You Know' Is Basically The Opposite Of The Way I Function. I Write About What I'm Curious To Find Out.

I Had This Idea That I Could Hire Myself Out As A Person To Go On Archeological Digs And Dig, Without Any Training! I Actually Wrote To A Number Of Archeology Departments And Offered Up My Services.