For A Long Time, I Would Write

Here's The Thing: I Am Not Only A Creature Of Civilization, I'm An Asthmatic Person. I Will Only Live So Long As I Have Stockpiled The Proper Inhalers. I'm Effectively A Cyborg. You Know How In Jurassic Park, They Bred Those Dinosaurs With The Lysine Deficiencies, So If They Ever Got Off The Island, They'd Die? That's Me.

Everything We Make In Life, Eventually, Is Sold For A Dollar Or A Penny Or Given Away.

That Catharsis Is Really The Core Of The Incredibly Personal Comedy Of Louis C.k. Or Marc Maron Or Whatever. And Look - I Find It Fascinating That I'm Sitting Here Talking About Some Of These Things, And Not To Low Tones, And My Kids Are In The Other Room. I Have To Trust That If They Hear What I'm Saying And They Have Questions About It, I'll Be Able To Answer It, And That's Fine. But That's Part Of The Scariness Of It - The Reality Of Opening Up My Own Life And My Own Feelings.

As A Freelance Writer, I'd Be Asked To Become An Expert For Various Magazines On Any Subject, Whether Food Or Wine Or History Or The Life Span Of Veterinarians. I Was Completely Unschooled In Any Of These Things.

Reality, While Generally Probable, Is Not Always Interesting.