Life Is Weather. Life Is Meals.

The Normal Economic System Works Itself.

Your Parents Are The Parents You Know Best. Your Brother And Sister, If You Have Them, Are The Brother And Sister You Know Best. They May Not Be The Ones You Like The Best. They May Not Be The Most Interesting, But They Are The Closest And Probably The Clearest To You.

There Is No Complete Life. There Are Only Fragments. We Are Born To Have Nothing, To Have It Pour Through Our Hands. And Yet, This Pouring, This Flood Of Encounters, Struggles, Dreams...

They Are Travelling Cheaply, With That Touch Of Indolence And Occasional Luxury That Comes Only From Having Real Resources. They Live In Levis And Sunlight. Sometimes They Brush Their Teeth In Streams.

The Myriad Past, It Enters Us And Disappears. Except That Within It, Somewhere, Like Diamonds, Exist The Fragments That Refuse To Be Consumed. Sifting Through, If One Dares, And Collecting Them, One Discovers The True Design.