I Always Intended To Be Light And

Whoever You Are, Be That Person With All Your Might. Time Goes By Faster Than We Thought. It Is A Thief So Quiet. You Must Let Yourself Be Loved And You Must Love, Parts Of You That Never Loved Must Open And Love. You Must Announce Yourself In All Particulars So You Can Have Yourself.

My Stories Do Have Plot. They're Not Just Scattered Language; They're Controlled, Toward An End.

I Do Believe That As You Write More And Age, The Arrogance And Most Of The Vanity Goes. Or It Is A Vanity Met With Vast Gratitude, That You Were Hit By Something As You Stood In The Way Of It, That Anybody Is Listening.

Randomness I Love. And I Still Love Just A Holler Right In The Middle Of An Ongoing Narrative. Pain Or Joy, Ecstasy.

Professional Southerners Sicken Me.