Matter Is Plastic In The Face Of

It Really Seems To Me That In The Midst Of Great Tragedy, There Is Always The Horrible Possibility That Something Terribly Funny Will Happen.

The Person I Am Now, Compared With The Person In The Dream, Has Been Baffled And Defeated And Only Supposes He Enjoys A Full Life. In The Dreams, I See What A Full Life Really Consists Of, And It Is Not What I Really Have.

I Want To Write About People I Love, And Put Them Into A Fictional World Spun Out Of My Own Mind, Not The World We Actually Have, Because The World We Actually Have Does Not Meet My Standards.

Why Is Love So Good...? You Love Someone And They Leave. They Come Home One Day And You Say "what's Happening?" And They Say, "i Got A Better Offer Someplace Else," And There They Go, Out Of Your Life Forever, And After That Until You're Dead You're Carrying Around This Huge Hunk Of Love With No One To Give It To. And If You Do Find Someone To Give It To, The Same Thing Happens All Over.

Everything Is True Everything Anybody Has Ever Thought