I Watched Them, Thinking That Little Girls

Time -- When Pursued Like A Bandit -- Will Behave Like One; Always Remaining One Country Or One Room Ahead Of You, Changing Its Name And Hair Color To Elude You, Slipping Ou The Back Door Of The Motel Just As You're Banging Through The Lobby With Your Newest Search Warrant, Leaving Only A Burning Cigarette In The Ashtray To Taunt You.

Also, I Could Finally Sleep. And This Was The Real Gift, Because When You Cannot Sleep, You Cannot Get Yourself Out Of The Ditch--there's Not A Chance.

I've Read That Under Trauma, That You Have This Ability To Kind Of Disconnect From The Experience.

We're Miserable Because We Think That We Are Mere Individuals, Alone With Our Fears And Flaws And Resentment And Mortality.

But Vegetarians Can Eat This...because Intestines Aren't Even Meat, Liz. They're Just Sh$*.