God, The Boring Relative Everyone Ignores--no One

... Suddenly I Was A Kid In The Hall Standing Outside My Locker About To Head To Math. But That Was How It Went Sometimes, The English Language, When You Really Needed It, Crumbled To Clay In Your Mouth. That's When All The Real Things Were Said.

I'm Not Afraid Of Total Failure. In The End, We're All Just Food For Worms, So What Are We So Worried About?

It’s What We Chase But Never Find. It Is The Mystery Of Our Lives, The Understanding That Even When We Have Everything We Want It Is One Day To Leave Us. It’s The Something Unseen, The Lurking Devastation, The Darkness That Gives Our Lives Dimension.

The Late Great Horace Lloyd Swithin (1844-1917), British Essayist, Lecturer, Satirist, And Social Observer, Wrote In His Autobiographical Appointments, 1890-1901 (1902), "when One Travels Abroad, One Doesn't So Much Discover The Hidden Wonders Of The World, But The Hidden Wonders Of The Individuals With Whom One Is Traveling. They May Turn Out To Afford A Stirring View, A Rather Dull Landscape, Or A Terrain So Treacherous One Finds It's Best To Forget The Entire Affair And Return Home.

It Was What Accidental Deaths Did To People, Made Everybody's Sea Floor Irregular And Uneven, Causing Tidal Currents To Collide, Surge Upward, Thereby Resulting In Small Yet Volatile Eddies Churning At Everybody's Surface. (in The More Dangerous Cases, It Created A Lasting Whirlpool In Which The Strongest Swimmers Could Drown.)