The Mist Hung In The Air Like

I've Been A Professional Writer For 20 Years, And There Are Contours In That Time, Crescents And Troughs.

The Bluebells Made Such A Pool That The Earth Had Become Like Water, And All The Trees And Bushes Seemed To Have Grown Out Of The Water. And The Sky Above Seemed To Have Fallen Down On To The Earth Floor; And I Didn’t Know If The Sky Was The Earth Or The Earth Was Water. I Had Been Turned Upside Down. I Had To Hold The Rock With My Fingernails To Stop Me Falling Into The Sky Of The Earth Or The Water Of The Sky. But I Couldn’t Hold On.

Repression In The Human Psyche Is Tightly Bundled. When It Has Been Pulled Out Of The Sprung Package So Often It Is Perhaps Difficult To Push It Back In The Box.

Rationally Speaking, Blaming One's Behavior On Alcohol Or Drugs Is Like Blaming The Ladder By Which You Descended Into A Pit, Or The Staircase That Took You Down To A Cellar, For What You Found There.

It's Just That To A Lot Of British People George Bush Represents The Worst Of All Things American. He's The Right-wing Christian Crusader, The Toxic Texan Who Refused Kyoto, The Poll-cheat Eel Who Undermined Democracy On The Back Of Something Called 'chads,' A Notion We've Never Entirely Grasped.