I Like To Eat Crawfish And Drink

The Difference Between A Non-suicide And An Ex-suicide Leaving The House For Work, At Eight O'clock On An Ordinary Morning: The Non-suicide Is A Little Traveling Suck Of Care, Sucking Care With Him From The Past And Being Sucked Toward Care In The Future. His Breath Is High In His Chest. The Ex-suicide Opens His Front Door, Sits Down On The Steps, And Laughs. Since He Has The Option Of Being Dead, He Has Nothing To Lose By Being Alive. It Is Good To Be Alive. He Goes To Work Because He Doesn't Have To.

One Of The Peculiar Ironies Of Being A Human Self In The Cosmos: A Stranger Approaching You In The Street Will In A Second's Glance See You Whole, Size You Up, Place You In A Way In Which You Cannot And Never Will, Even Though You Have Spent A Lifetime With Yourself, Live In The Century Of The Self, And Therefore Ought To Know Yourself Best Of All.

Fiction Doesn’t Tell Us Something We Don’t Know, It Tells Us Something We Know But Don’t Know That We Know.

In This World, Goodness Is Destined To Be Defeated.

Your Discovery, As Best As I Can Determine, Is That There Is An Alternative Which No One Has Hit Upon. It Is That One Finding Oneself In One Of Life's Critical Situations Need Not After All Respond In One Of The Traditional Ways. No. One May Simply Default. Pass. Do As One Pleases, Shrug, Turn On One's Heel And Leave. Exit. Why After All Need One Act Humanly?