The Modern Superstition Is That We're Free

Twenty Years Is, After All, A Long Time. We Are Not The Same People We Were. Old Friends, Lovers, Even Family Members: They Are Strangers Who Happen To Wear A Familiar Face. We Have No Right To Claim To Know Anyone After Such A Distance.

Perhaps Writers Should Never Be Allowed To Get Together In A Workplace Context. It's Not Like Studying Computer Science, After All. The Emotions Are At Large, And Are Shared And Are Questioned. There Is A Vulnerability.

Rome Is A Place Almost Worn Out By Being Looked At, A City Collapsing Under The Weight Of Reference.

But There Are Times In Life When A Door Opens And You Are Offered A Glimpse Of The Light On The Water, And You Know That If You Don't Take It, That Door Slams Shut, And Maybe Forever. Maybe You Fool Yourself Into Thinking That You Had A Choice At All; Maybe You Were Always Going To Say Yes. Maybe Refusing Was No More A Choice Than Is Holding Your Breath. You Were Always Going To Breathe. You Were Always Going To Say Yes.

The Blood In My Veins Is Frozen But It Sings Of Love.