Our Bones Like Stems Into The Sky

I Have Gotten So Used To Melancholia That I Greet It Like An Old Friend.

Can You Remember Who You Were, Before The World Told You Who You Should Be?

There's No Chance At All: We Are All Trapped By A Singular Fate.

Most People Are Much Better At Saying Things In Letters Than In Conversation, And Some People Can Write Artistic, Inventive Letters, But When They Try A Poem Or Story Or Novel They Become Pretentious.

If You Want To Create, You'll Create.