There's Nothing Wrong With Not Understanding Yourself.

I Imagine A Line, A White Line, Painted On The Sand And On The Ocean, From Me To You.

I Felt, That Night, On That Stage, Under That Skull, Incredibly Close To Everything In The Universe, But Also Extremely Alone. I Wondered, For The First Time In My Life, If Life Was Worth All The Work It Took To Live. What Exactly Made It Worth It? What's So Horrible About Being Dead Forever, And Not Feeling Anything, And Not Even Dreaming? What's So Great About Feeling And Dreaming?

Why Does Watching A Dog Be A Dog Fill One With Happiness?

My Test For Writing Is Always, Is This Fun Or Does It Feel Like A Job? Is It Moving Me? Or Am I Just Fulfilling My Own Expectations - Or Even Worse, Somebody Else's?

We Believed In Our Grandmother’s Cooking More Fervently Than We Believed In God.