Murder Had A Blood Red Door On

We Have This Desire For Everything To Be Explained To Us. But If You Go Through Your Daily Actions, Very Little Ends Up Having A Written-down Explanation For Why Things Happen, Or Why People Do Specific Things. So It Made Sense To Me To Reflect The Human Condition That Not Every Action Has An Explanation. We Act, And Then Later Maybe Come To An Understanding About It, Or Maybe Not.

Now I Am In The Place I Call This Wide Wide Heaven Because It Includes All My Simplest Desires But Also The Most Humble And Grand. The Word My Grandfather Uses Is Comfort. So There Are Cakes And Pillows And Colors Galore, But Underneath This More Obvious Patchwork Quilt Are Places Like A Quiet Room Where You Can Go And Hold Someone's Hand And Not Have To Say Anything. Give No Story. Make No Claim. Where You Can Live At The Edge Of Your Skin For As Long As You Wish.

People Grow Up By Living.

Who Would Have Thought Something That Happened That Long Ago Could Have Such Power?

I Was Trying To Prove To Them And To Myself That I Was Still Who I Had Always Been. I Was Beautiful, If Fat. I Was Smart, If Loud. I Was Good, If Ruined.