I Prefer A Cluttered Workspace.

First, You Hand Over Some Basics-overwhelming Joy, Existential Angst, A Giving-in To Desire, Etc. And Then You Promise To Withstand Talking Idly About The Weather, To Encourage Cliché, To Uphold The Virtues Of Average. You Hand Over The Need To Be Understood And, In Return, You Get A Bar Of Normal Soap. And You Can Wash In It And Be Daily Reborn To A Safe World Of Modest, Enduring Love Or, At Least, Mild, Well-mannered Bonding.

I'm About To Start Something New. I'm Waiting To Be Whelmed. The Whelming As You Start Something New Is Quite Something.

Is It Wrong To Kill Something That Wants To Kill You?

You Learn To Exploit Genre For The More Important Things - To My Mind - Like Story, Character, Image, Language.

What Does It Mean To Be Catholic And Not A Catholic? I Feel Adrift, Homeless. My Catholic Imagination Allows Me To See The Soul As A Lit Breath, Seeking The Divine. It Persists.