I Was Born In 1970 In Illinois,

Needing Was So Easy: It Came Naturally, Like Breathing. Being Needed By Someone Else, Though, That Was The Hard Part. But As With Giving Help And Accepting It, We Had To Do Both To Be Made Complete-like Links Overlapping To Form A Chain, Or A Lock Finding The Right Key.

I Was Actually Pretty Miserable In High School. I Couldn't Wait For It To Be Over. And When It Finally Was, I Remember Sitting At Graduation With All These Classmates Getting Nostalgic And Emotional Already And All I Could Think Was, "get Me Out Of Here. I Never Want To See You People Again." So It's Ironic That I Spend Half My Day Putting Myself Back There By Choice [while Writing].

Silence Is So Freaking Loud

We Sat There, Not Talking, For A Few Minutes. He Ate The Moon Pie; Only Skinny People Can Scarf Down Junk Food Like That. Finally, I Said, "norman?" "yeah?" "are You Ever Going To Show Me The Painting?" "man," He Said. "you Are, Like, So Impatient." "i Am Not," I Said. "i've Been Waiting Forever." "okay, Okay." He Stood Up And Went Over To The Corner, Picking Up The Painting And Bringing It Over To Rest Against The Bright Pink Belly Of One Of The Mannequins. Then, He Handed Me A Bandana. "tie That On.

The End Of A Wedding Reception Is Always So Depressing. And Only The Bride And Groom Are Spared, Jetting Off Into The Sunset While The Rest Of Us Wake Up The Next Morning To Just Another Day.