Most Things Don't Stay The Way They

I Went To College To Study Hospitality. I Quickly Got Out Of That And Realized That What I Liked To Do Was Write.

Your Life Doesn't Mean What You Have Or What You Get. Its What Your'e Willing To Give Up.

Construed As Turf, Home Just Seems A Provisional Claim, A Designation You Make Upon A Place, Not One It Makes On You. A Certain Set Of Buildings, A Glimpsed, Smudged Window-view Across A Schoolyard, A Musty Aroma Sniffed Behind A Garage When You Were A Child, All Of Which Come Crowding In Upon Your Latter-day Senses -- Those Are Pungent Things And Vivid, Even Consoling. But To Me They Are Also Inert And Nostalgic And Unlikely To Connect You To The Real, To That Essence Art Can Sometimes Achieve, Which Is Permanence.

At The Exact Moment Any Decision Seems To Be Being Made, It's Usually Long After The Real Decision Was Actually Made--like Light We See Emitted From Stars.

Paul Ryan, He Is The Real Evil Genius Of The Republican Party. He With His Little Hateful Widow's Peak And His Smirky, Snarly, Simpering Non-entity Self, That's Who I Detest. Trump's Just A Moron, But Ryan Is Ugly And Evil.