Security And Safety Were The Reward Of

Secrets Are My Currency: I Deal In Them For A Living. The Secrets Of Desire, Of What People Really Want, And Of What They Fear The Most. The Secrets Of Why Love Is Difficult, Sex Complicated, Living Painful And Death So Close And Yet Placed Far Away. Why Are Pleasure And Punishment Closely Related? How Do Our Bodies Speak? Why Do We Make Ourselves Ill? Why Do You Want To Fail? Why Is Pleasure Hard To Bear?

Almost Certainly I Will Not Tell Her My Intentions This Evening Or Tonight. I Will Put It Off. Why? Because Words Are Actions And They Make Things Happen. Once They Are Out You Cannot Put Them Back.

If You Never Left Anything Or Anyone There Would Be No Room For The New. Naturally, To Move On Is An Infidelity -- To Others, To The Past, To Old Notions Of Oneself. Perhaps Every Day Should Contain At Least One Essential Infidelity Or Necessary Betrayal. It Would Be An Optimistic, Hopeful Act, Guaranteeing Belief In The Future -- A Declaration That Things Can Be Not Only Different But Better.

I Guess Writing Is A Kind Of Therapy In The Sense That There Are Things You Need To Say And You Say Them, And Better Out Than In.

At The Same Time, You Have To Find The Right Distance Between People. Too Close, And They Overwhelm You, Too Far And They Abandon You. How To Hold Them In The Right Relation?