You Work Hard On A Book And

Even As Your Body Betrays You, Your Mind Denies It.

I Have To Convince Myself That This Is Not A Pointless Life, Even The Body Is Telling Me So.

The More Distressing The Memory, The More Persistent It's Presence.

I Stare At Her For A Long Moment. I Want To Kiss Her. I Want To Kiss Her More Than I've Ever Wanted Anything In My Life.

I Was Always Searching, Always Seeking The Next Big Thing, Because That Was The Thing That Was Going To Make Everything All Right Again. And While I Was Working Toward It, It Gave Me Something To Think About Other Than That Thing I Couldn't Put My Finger On. But It Always Came Back.