To Live With Angels And Chase Their

On The Other Couch A Women Sits With A Young Boy Looking Through A Picture Book About Babar The Elephant. When I Find A Magazine And I Lean Back To Start Reading It, I Can See The Women Watching Me Out Of The Corner Of Her Eye. She Moves Closer To The Child And She Leans Over And Kisses His Forehead. I Know Why She Does It And I Don't Blame Her.

I Try To Make The Voice In My Head Come Out Onto The Page. I Try To Make It Much More Conversational Than Other Writing. I Speak Everything, So If Something Sounds Right I Write It. It's More About Sound And The Rhythm Of Speech Than Written Language.

The Feeling Of Arms Around Me, Of Love In My Heart, It Was More Powerful Than Any Of The Negativity I Knew Was Existing In The World For Me. That Feeling Of Love Killed It All.

That's What Ever Great Writer, I Believe, Has Done Over The Course Of Time - Is They've Figured Out New Ways Of Telling The Same Stories.

Everything I Know And I Am And I Have Seen Felt Done Past Present Past Now Then Before Now Seen Felt Done Hurt Felt Focus Into A Something Beyond Words Beyond Beyond Beyond And It Speaks Now And It Says. Stay. Fight. Live. Take It.