These Words Are Now Mine, But Soon

There Is The Sudden. There Is The Eventual. And In Between, There Is The Living.

Are You A Vegetarian?' I Ask, Based On The Evidence In Front Of Me. She Nods. 'why?' 'because I Have This Theory That When We Die, Every Animal That We've Eaten Has A Chance At Eating Us Back. So If You're A Carnivore And You Add Up All The Animals You've Eaten--well, That's A Long Time In Purgatory, Being Chewed.' 'really?' She Laughs. 'no. I'm Just Sick Of The Question. I Mean, I'm A Vegetarian Because I Think It's Wrong To Eat Other Sentient Creatures. And It Sucks For The Environment.

I Guess It's A Choice We Make," She Said. "what's A Choice?" I Asked. And She Said, "how Much Of The World We Let In.

We Are So Used To Releasing Words, We Don't Know What To Do With Them If They Stay. No Matter How Many Times We Let Them Go, They Come Back. The Words That Matter Always Stay.

I Am Not Dangerous. Only The Stories Are Dangerous. Only The Fictions We Create, Especially When They Become Expectations.