If I'd Done The Discovery Before I

I Guess What I Find So Interesting About Memory, And Its Role In A Person's Identity, Is How The Attempt To Achieve Accuracy Requires You To Remove Yourself From Your Life In An Authorial Manner.

The Belief That One's Suffering Has A Greater Cosmic Purpose, And Is Thus More Exciting And More Noble, Well, It Made A Lot Of Sense To Me.

I Wont Deny That I Have A Far More Productive Writing Life Without The Internet, Mostly Because I Rekindle My Ability To Concentrate On One Thing For A Period Of Longer Than Three Minutes. My Curiosity Is Channeled Inward Rather Than Internet-ward.

I Can't Even Tell You What Else I Imagined. I Can Only Humiliate Myself To Such A Degree; At A Certain Point It Becomes Humorous, And This Story Is Not Meant To Be Humorous. This Story Is Meant To Winch Your Ribs Open And Tamper With Your Heart. This Story Is Meant To Make You Realize That Your Chances Of Happiness In This World Are Terribly Slim If You Lack A Fine Imagination.

I Like Playing With A Popular Cliché And Making It My Own By Half-embracing It, Half-disemboweling It.