Look Up At The Stars And You're

Alternating The Thoughtful Task Of Writing With The Mindless Work Of Laundry Or Dish Washing Will Give You The Breaks You Need For New Ideas And Insights To Occur. If You Don't Know What Comes Next In The Story... Clean Your Toilet. Change The Bed Sheets. For Christ Sakes, Dust The Computer. A Better Idea Will Come.

This Was Freedom. Losing All Hope Was Freedom.

I Told Him To Buy Land, My Mum Says, They’re Not Making It Anymore.

At The Last Minute, I Couldn't Wear The Hitler Mustache Because Tiger Stripe Ate It; And Then I Didn't Want To Take My Kitty And Risk His Coughing Up Some Big Nazi Hairball On Someone's Front Stoop.

For The First Time In Longer Than I Can Remember, I Feel Peaceful. Not Happy. Not Sad. Not Anxious. Not Horny. Just All The Higher Parts Of My Brain Closing Up Shop. The Cerebral Cortex. The Cerebellum. That's Where My Problem Is. I'm Now Simplifying Myself. Somewhere Balanced In The Perfect Middle Between Happiness And Sadness. Because Sponges Never Have A Bad Day.