I Try Not To Divide

First, You Hand Over Some Basics-overwhelming Joy, Existential Angst, A Giving-in To Desire, Etc. And Then You Promise To Withstand Talking Idly About The Weather, To Encourage Cliché, To Uphold The Virtues Of Average. You Hand Over The Need To Be Understood And, In Return, You Get A Bar Of Normal Soap. And You Can Wash In It And Be Daily Reborn To A Safe World Of Modest, Enduring Love Or, At Least, Mild, Well-mannered Bonding.

I Have Faith In Human Beings. I Struggle With That Faith.

Writing Stories Is The Habit Of Lying Put To Good Use.

Beauty, You Can Find It Here If You Look Hard Enough.

I'm A Woman, But I've Been A Sexist, Too.