Who But The Mad Would Choose To

Simon, Would You Still Care For Me If You Discovered I Was Not Who I Say I Am?" What Do You Mean?" I Mean Would You Still Care For Me, No Matter What You Came To Know?" What A Thing To Ponder. I Don't Know What To Say." The Answer Is No. He Does Not Need To Say It. With A Sigh, Simon Digs At The Fire With The Iron Poker. Bits Of The Charred Log Fall Away, Revealing The Angry Insides. They Flare Orange For A Moment, Then Quiet Down Again. After Three Tries, He Gives Up. I'm Afraid This Fire's Had It." I Can See A Few Embers Remaining. "no, I Think Not. If..." He Sighs, And It Says Everything.

We Create The Illusions We Need To Go On.

I'm Like Everyone Else In This Stupid, Bloody, Amazing World. I'm Flawed. Impossibly So. But Hopeful. I'm Still Me.

Hot Off The Presses, Today’s Headlines: The Love Of Your Life Does Not Approve Of My Wanton Flapper Ways,” Evie Said In A Voice Of Affected Mystery. “really, Mabesie. You Might Want To Reconsider—he Is A Bit Of A Killjoy.

Travel Opens Your Mind As Few Other Things Do. It Is Its Own Form Of Hypnotism, And I Am Forever Under Its Spell