So, I Guess We Are Who We

So, I Looked Up, And We Were In This Giant Dome Like A Glass Snowball, And Mark Said That The Amazing White Stars Were Really Only Holes In The Black Glass Of The Dome, And When You Went To Heaven, The Glass Broke Away, And There Was Nothing But A Whole Sheet Of Star White, Which Is Brighter Than Anything But Doesn't Hurt Your Eyes. It Was Vast And Open And Thinly Quiet, And I Felt So Small.

Movies, By Nature, Are Not Subjective, They're Objective.

I Really Think That Everyone Should Have Watercolors, Magnetic Poetry, And A Harmonica.

I Just Listened To The Music, And Breathed In The Day, And Remembered Things. Things Like Walking Around The Neighborhood And Looking At The Houses And The Lawns And The Colorful Trees And Having That Be Enough.

I Want To Be An Author/director And I'm Writing My Second Book Now And I Want To Make A Movie Of It, And I Hope I Get To Do This For The Rest Of My Life.