Randomness I Love. And I Still Love

I Distrust Thought. The Interior Life Is Highly Overrated. I Don't Like The Wispy And The Vague... Or Inductive Logic In Any Kind Of Writing. I'm Impatient With Writers Who Make Too Much Sense. The Better Things That I've Done Have Come To Me By Instinct.

Randomness I Love. And I Still Love Just A Holler Right In The Middle Of An Ongoing Narrative. Pain Or Joy, Ecstasy.

My Best Stories Come Out Of Nowhere, With No Concern For Form At All.

There Was No One, When I Was In School, Who Talked About Going In And Blowing Up Students. The Teachers Were Very Stern And Hateable, But Nobody Ever Mentioned Murder.

Professional Southerners Sicken Me.