Something Changed. Somewhere Along The Line You

You Keep Thinking That With Practice You Will Eventually Get The Knack Of Enjoying Superficial Encounters, That You Will Stop Looking For The Universal Solvent, Stop Grieving. You Will Learn To Compound Happiness Out Of Small Increments Of Mindless Pleasure.

Bottles Of Wine Aren't Like Paintings. At Some Point You Have To Consume Them. The Object In Life Is To Die With No Bottles Of Wine In Your Cellar. To Drink Your Last Bottle Of Wine And Go To Sleep That Night And Not Wake Up.

Everything Becomes Symbol And Irony When You've Been Betrayed

There Aren't Many Shy Writers Left.

A Creative Writing Program Is Only As Good As Its Teachers, And I Was Fortunate In Having Two Great Writers As Mentors.