The Folks I Read As A Kid

Madness, As I Understood It From Books, Meant A Person Who Was Open To The High White Whine Of Everything.

I Am Extremely Close To My Brother, Kent, And My Sister, Lauren, Who Have Been Remarkably Understanding About All Of My Weird Sibling Tales.

Whenever Someone Asks Me About Fantasy Versus Realism, I'm Like, "i Don't Know, Guys. Did We Not All Just Descend Into Some Underworld, Watch Strangers From Our Past Kaleidoscope Through Us According To Some Pattern That Is Both Illogical And Has Its Own Strange Melting Truth, And Then Wake Up And Have A Pop-tart?" Why Are We Talking About Fantasy And Reality Like They're Opposed?

When You're A Kid, It's Hard To Tell The Innocuous Secrets From The Ones That Will Kill You If You Keep Them.

My Older Sister Has Entire Kingdoms Inside Of Her, And Some Of Them Are Only Accessible At Certain Seasons, In Certain Kinds Of Weather. One Such Melting Occurs In Summer Rain, At Midnight, During The Vine-green Breathing Time Right Before Sleep. You Have To Ask The Right Question, Throw The Right Rope Bridge, To Get There-and Then Bolt Across The Chasm Between You, Before Your Bridge Collapses.