You Believe You Could Not

Even The Air Feels Different On Halloween, Autumn-crisp And Bright.

It Is Likely To Make Us Think We Are Not Caged. We Cannot Feel The Bars Unless We Push Against Them.

The Circus Arrives Without Warning.

I Think Looking Forward Will Be Better Than Looking Back.

I Paint Very Messy. I Throw Paint Around. So When I Let Myself Do The Same Sort Of Thing With My Writing, And I Would Just Write And Write And Write And Revise, That's When I Found My Rhythm In Writing.