The Proper Word For Me," Robin Goodman

We're Well Past The End Of The Century When Time, For The First Time, Curved, Bent, Slipped, Flash Forwarded, And Flashed Back Yet Still Kept Rolling Along. We Know It All Now, With Our Thoughts Traveling At The Speed Of A Tweet, Our 140 Characters In Search Of A Paragraph. We're Post-history. We're Post-mystery.

Google Is So Strange. It Promises Everything, But Everything Isn’t There. You Type In The Words For What You Need, And What You Need Becomes Superfluous In An Instant, Shadowed Instantaneously By The Things You Really Need, And None Of Them Answerable By Google.

The Whole Point Is, We Can Forget. It’s Important That We Forget Some Things. Otherwise We’d Go Round The World Carrying A Hodload Of Stuff We Just Don’t Need.

Art Makes Nothing Happen In A Way That Makes Something Happen.

Words Are Like Untying A Corset - You Can Move Into This Great Space With Them.