There Are Many Ways To Drown, Only

Change Is One Of The Only Constants In Buddhism; As Meditation Became The Way I Breathed In The Days, This Became Apparent.

Perhaps Everyone Has A Story That Could Break Your Heart.

I Believe Poetry Has Very Little To Do With Memory.

In My Experience, Whatever Happens Clings To Us Like Barnacles On The Hull Of A Ship, Slowing Us Slightly, Both Uglifying And Giving Us Texture. You Can Scrape All You Want, You Can, If You Have Money, Hire Someone Else To Scrape, But The Barnacles Will Come Back Or At Least Leave A Blemish On The Steel.

There Are Many Ways To Drown, Only The Most Obvious Wave Their Arms As They're Going Under.