A Ratio Of Failures Is Built Into

Love Was Like A Steamroller. There Was No Avoiding It; It Went Over You And You Came Out Flat.

What Am I Living For And What Am I Dying For Are The Same Question.

What’s With Her?” Says The Painter. “she’s Mad Because She’s A Woman,” Jon Says. This Is Something I Haven’t Heard For Years, Not Since High School. Once It Was A Shaming Thing To Say, And Crushing To Have It Said About You, By A Man. It Implied Oddness, Deformity, Sexual Malfunction. I Go To The Living Room Doorway. “i’m Not Mad Because I’m A Woman,” I Say. “i’m Mad Because You’re An Asshole.

I Wish You Good Writing And Good Luck. Even If You've Already Done The Good Writing, You'll Still Need The Good Luck. It's A Shark-filled Lagoon Out There. Cross Your Fingers And Watch Your Back.

There Were A Lot Of Gods. Gods Always Come In Handy, They Justify Almost Anything.