What Time Has Ever Been A Simple

The Love That Moves The Sun And The Other Stars.

Oh, I Just Want What We All Want: A Comfortable Couch, A Nice Beverage, A Weekend Of No Distractions And A Book That Will Stop Time, Lift Me Out Of My Quotidian Existence And Alter My Thinking Forever.

Every Few Years, I Think, 'maybe Now I'm Finally Smart Enough Or Sophisticated Enough To Understand 'ulysses.'' So I Pick It Up And Try It Again. And By Page 10, As Always, I'm Like, 'what The Hell?'

I Won The Argument Against The Knife That Night, But Barely. I Had Some Other Good Ideas Around That Time--about How Jumping Off A Building Or Blowing My Brains Out With A Gun Might Stop The Suffering. But Something About Spending A Night With A Knife In My Hand Did It. The Next Morning I Called My Friend Susan As The Sun Came Up, Begged Her To Help Me. I Don't Think A Woman In The Whole History Of My Family Had Ever Done That Before, Had Ever Sat In The Middle Of The Road Like That And Said, In The Middle Of Her Life, "i Cannot Walk Another Step Further--somebody Has To Help Me.

It's What I Call The Haute Couture, High-end Version Of Fear Perfectionism. It's Just Fear In Really Good Shoes. But It's Still Fear.