Your Past Is Just A Story. And

You Can Tell A More Over-the-top Incredible Story If You Use A Nonfiction Form.

We're All Trapped. It's Always 1734. All Of Us, We're Stuck In The Same Time Capsule, The Same As Those Television Shows Where The Same People Are Marooned On The Same Desert Island For Thirty Seasons And Never Age Or Escape. They Just Wear More Makeup. In A Creepy Way, Those Shows Are Maybe Too Authentic.

I'm Giving You My Life To Prove To Myself I Can, I Really Can Love Somebody. Even When I'm Not Getting Paid, I Can Give Love And Happiness And Charm. You See, I Can Handle The Baby Food And The Not Talking And Being Homeless And Invisible, But I Have To Know That I Can Love Somebody. Completely And Totally, Permanently And Without Hope Of Reward, Just As An Act Of Will, I Will Love Somebody.

All Major Publishing Houses Have These Big Fat Biographies Sitting There, Waiting For People To Die. All You Have To Do Is Slap On The End And Put In On The Market. It's That Kind Of Commoditization And Completion Of Your Life Before You Die - And This Kind Of Imposition Of A Public Idea Of Self That Replaces The Actual Living Self - That I Find So Frightening.

The Only Reason Why We Ask Other People How Their Weekend Was Is So We Can Tell Them About Our Own Weekend.