He Had Never Expected Death To Be

No Matter How Long We Exist, We Have Our Memories. Points In Time Which Time Itself Cannot Erase. Suffering May Distort My Backward Glances, But Even To Suffering, Some Memories Will Yield Nothing Of Their Beauty Or Their Splendor. Rather They Remain As Hard As Gems.

Dear God, Help Me. Do Not Forget Me On This Tiny Cinder Lost In A Galaxy That Is Lost–a Heart No Bigger Than A Speck Of Dust Beating, Beating Against Death, Against Meaninglessness, Against Guilt, Against Sorrow.

The Worst Takes Its Time To Come, And Then To Pass.

Merciful Death. How You Love Your Precious Guilt

If You Want To Be A Writer, Write. Write And Write And Write. If You Stop, Start Again. Save Everything That You Write. If You Feel Blocked, Write Through It Until You Feel Your Creative Juices Flowing Again. Write. Writing Is What Makes A Writer, Nothing More And Nothing Less.