I Would Never Write In Response To

Everything Is Barely Weeks. Everything Is Days. We Have Minutes To Live.

The Future Is Always A Wholeness, A Sameness. We're All Tall And Happy There,' She Said. 'this Is Why The Future Fails. It Always Fails. It Can Never Be The Cruel Happy Place We Want To Make It.

Say Heat. Say Wet Between My Legs. Say Legs. Seriously, I Want You To. Stockings. Whisper It. The Word Is Meant To Be Whispered.

One Connection I See Between Novelists And Terrorists Is That We Both Attempt To Alter Consciousness.

Everyone Who Does Not Live In Berlin Lives In Brooklyn Now.