Does Being Happy Simply Create

It's The Strangest Thing About Being Human: To Know So Much, To Communicate So Much, And Yet Always To Fall So Drastically Short Of Clarity, To Be, In The End, So Isolate And Inadequate. Even When People Try To Say Things, They Say Them Poorly Or Obliquely, Or They Outright Lie, Sometimes Because They're Lying To You, But As Often Because They're Lying To Themselves.

We Live In A Funny Time, A Funny Era, When Desire, To Be Adult Desire, Has To Be Conceived As Sexual. And That Didn't Used To Be The Case. Sexuality Is A Social Construction As Much As Anything Else And I Think The Realities Of Sexuality Don't Always Fit Into The Social Constructions That We Have, And We Live In A Goal-oriented Time - On All Fronts.

The More Accurately One Can Illuminate A Particular Human Experience, The Better The Work Of Art.

I've Always Felt That If A Project Seems Easy, Or Even Attainable, Why Pursue It? I'll Always Find The Hardest Path.

I Always Thought I'd Get Farther. I'd Like To Blame The World For What I've Failed To Do, But The Failure - The Failure That Sometimes Washes Over Me As Anger, Makes Me So Angry I Could Spit - Is All Mine, In The End. What Made My Obstacles Insurmountable, What Consigned Me To Mediocrity, Is Me, Just Me. I Thought For So Long, Forever, That I Was Strong Enough -- Or I Misunderstood What Strength Was.