It Was A Small Thing, But It

That's The Artist's Job, Really: Continually Setting Yourself Free, And Giving Yourself New Options And New Ways Of Thinking About Things.

We Come From Long Lines Of People Destined Never To Meet.

My Ideal Life Is Just Lounging Around The House And Every Once In A While I'll Kind Of Write Something, And Then I'll Leave And Eat Something And Masturbate Or Whatever - Just This Very Fluid Life Of Comforting Myself.

He Was Worried She Would Not Let Him Love Her With The Stain. He Had Already Decided Long Ago, Twenty Or Thirty Minutes Ago, That The Stain Was Fine. He Had Only Seen It For A Moment, But He Was Already Used To It. It Was Good. It Somehow Allowed Them To Have More.

I Mean Obviously We're All Dealing With A Lot More Strangers Due To The Web. I'd Say It Has More To Do With The Quality Of Interactions. When You're Physically Interacting With Someone, It Forces You To Be More Present And Probably A Little More Uncomfortable. You Have To Tolerate Being Outside The Comfort Of Your Own Home.