Seriously, The World Is Changing So Quickly

Being Dead's Only A Problem If You Know You're Dead, Which You Never Do Because You're Dead!

This Evening I Begin A Notebook. If Anyone Reads This, I Trust They Will Forgive My Overuse Of "i". I Can't Stop It. I'm Writing This.

Everything He'd Done With Regard To Her In The Last Three Years Had Been Calculated To Foreclose The Intensely Personal Sort Of Talks They'd Had When He Was Younger: To Get Her To Shut Up, To Train Her To Contain Herself, To Make Her Stop Pestering Him With Her Overfull Heart And Her Uncensored Self. And Now That The Training Was Complete And She Was Obediently Trivial With Him, He Felt Bereft Of Her And Wanted To Undo It.

Fiction Is A Solution, The Best Solution, To The Problem Of Existential Solitude.

I Feel That Working Environmentalists Are, In The Main, Happier Than Armchair Environmentalists.