I Moved To New York

I Moved To New York With The Derangement Of Love. I Was Writing All These Terrible Stories, But I Had Never Been Happier.

I Didn’t Realize That One Tragedy Can Beget Another, And Another — Bright-eyed Disasters Flooding Out Of A Death Hole Like Bats Out Of A Cave.

The Beginning Of The End Can Feel A Lot Like The Middle When You Are Living In It.

Given The Brevity Of Our Time Here, It Does Seem Likely That Our Species, Too, Must Have At Best A Blinkered Understanding Of The Shape Of Things, The Import Of Certain Events And What Distinguishes "good" From "bad" Luck.

I Hope That In My Thirties I Grow As A Writer, Push Into New Territory.