There Was No Such Thing As Perfect

Birth And Death - What Could Be More Monstrous Than That? We Like To Deceive Ourselves And Call It Wondrous And Beautiful And Majestic, But It's Freakish, Let's Face It.

I Think A Lot About The Past, It's True. But At My Age, The Past Is More Present Than The Here And Now. And There Is Not Much Percentage In The Future.

Remembering Bred Its Own Peculiar Sorrow. It Seemed So Unfair: That Time Should Render Both Sadness And Happiness Into A Source Of Pain.

All Fiction Relies On The Real World In The Sense That We All Take In The World Through Our Five Senses And We Accumulate Details, Consciously Or Subconsciously. This Accumulation Of Detail Can Be Drawn On When You Write Fiction.

If Time Were A Bolt Of Cloth,” Said Om, “i Would Cut Out All The Bad Parts. Snip Out The Scary Nights And Stitch Together The Good Parts, To Make Time Bearable. Then I Could Wear It Like A Coat, Always Live Happily.