The Dead Sit At Our Tables Long

I Often Find That I Rock Back And Forth With A Beat In My Head Constantly. If I Stop Rocking, It Usually Means I've Hit A Snag In My Writing.

...the Human Spirit Knows, Deep Down That All Lives Intersect.

Why Are We Embarassed By Silence? What Comfort Do We Find In All The Noise?

Knowing Something And Understanding It Were Not The Same Thing.

All Endings Are Also Beginnings. We Just Don't Know It At The Time.