In Life We Often Look To Others

I Just Think It's A Great World To Tell Stories In, To Tell Cool Stories: Money, Sex, Fame, And Scandal. Those Are Great Subject Matters To Work With.

I Turn And I Look Back Across The Lake. The Mist Is Gone And The Ice Diminished, The Drip Of The Icicles Quick And Heavy. The Sun Is Up And The Sky Is Blue Empty Blue Light Blue Clear Blue. I Would Drink The Sky If I Could Drink It, Drink It And Celebrate It And Let It Fill Me And Become Me. I Am Getting Better. Empty And Clear And Light And Blue. I Am Getting Better.

I Can Run Fast When I Want To Run Fast, And I've Always Been Good At Destroying Things.

We Stare Into Each Other's Eyes And Softly Kiss Speaking And Saying More With The Movement Of Our Lips And The Tips Of Our Fingers Than Words Will Allow Us To Say. Words Can't Say This. The One Word Love Means Too Little For What It Is. It Means Everything And That Is Still Not Enough. It Doesn't Communicate Even A Fraction Of The Feelings Involved. Love. The Word Is Not Enough For What It Is. Love. Love.

The Afternoon And The Early Evening Slide By In A Lidded Daze Where The Ability To Think In Any Identifiable Way Disappears And Where Every Moment Seems To Be An Eternity.