I Wrote To Explain My Own Life

I Wanted To Become The Seeker, The Aroused And Passionate Explorer, And It Was Better To Go At It Knowing Nothing At All, Always Choosing The Unmarked Bottle, Always Choosing Your Own Unproven Method, Armed With Nothing But Faith And A Belief In Astonishment.

She Was One Of Those Southerners Who Knew From An Early Age That The South Could Never Be More For Them Than A Fragrant Prison, Administered By A Collective Of Loving But Treacherous Relatives.

A Story Is A Living Thing, It Moves And Shifts.

Love Had Always Issued Out Of The Places That Hurt The Most.

There Are No Verdicts To Childhood, Only Consequences, And The Bright Freight Of Memory.