I Am Starting A Collection Of Only

We Create The Illusions We Need To Go On. And One Day, When They No Longer Dazzle Or Comfort, We Tear Them Down, Brick By Glittering Brick, Until We Are Left With Nothing But The Bright Light Of Honesty. The Light Is Liberating. Necessary. Terrifying. We Stand Naked And Emptied Before It. And When It Is Too Much For Our Eyes To Take, We Build A New Illusion To Shield Us From Its Relentless Truth.

Goodbye," I Whisper At Last, When It No Longer Matters And There Is No One To Hear It But The Window.

There Are No Safe Choices. Only Other Choices.

Dammit!" "what?" Gonzo Sounds Panicked. "we're Out Of Gas." "you're Shithenging Me." "i Shithenge You Not.

When You Looked Up To The Sky And Cried 'why?' Sometimes The Sky Shrugged, Yet Other Times It Answered With Warm Assurance Of Linked Hands.