Thus Far, Everything I've Made Has Come

If You Were Wise Enough To Know That This Life Would Consist Mostly Of Letting Go Of Things You Wanted, Then Why Not Get Good At The Letting Go, Rather Than The Trying To Have?

When You're Not Doing Fiction, There's A Limit To How Much Illustrating You Can Do With Your Work. I Mean, You Can Do Fine. There Are Great Non-fiction Writers, But People Aren't Necessarily Going To Say Anything That Reveals Them As Much As A Picture Might. Even Their Surroundings, In Lot Of Cases, The Things That Meant The Most To Me Were The Things I Noticed In Their Houses. I Was Always Looking, As Much As I Was Listening To Them. I Was Looking Around For Clues As To Why I Was There.

And Why Had Deb's Last Boyfriend Dumped Her? I Dumped Him. Maybe You Didn't French-kiss Him Enough. I Promise You That Wasn't It. Tell Me How Many Times A Day You Kissed, And I'll Say If It Was Enough. Four Hundred. Not Enough.

Do You Have Doubts About Life? Are You Unsure If It's Worth The Trouble? Look At The Sky: That Is For You. Look At Each Person's Face As You Pass On The Street: Those Faces Are For You. And The Street Itself, And The Ground Under The Street And The Ball Of Fire Underneath The Ground: All These Things Are For You. They Are As Much For You As They Are For Other People. Remember This When You Wake Up In The Morning And Think You Have Nothing. Stand Up And Face The East. Now Praise The Sky And Praise The Light Within Each Person Under The Sky. It's Okay To Be Unsure. But Praise, Praise, Praise.

We Humans Are Here Because Nothing Can Be Perfect. There Always Have To Be Some Living Things That Are Unsatisfied, Itchy, Trying Too Hard. If It Was All Just Animals And Rocks And Lettuce, The Gods Wouldn't Feel Like They Had Enough To Do.