My Schedule For Today Lists

The Pain, So Unexpected And Undeserved, Had For Some Reason Cleared Away The Cobwebs. I Realized I Didn’t Hate The Cabinet Door, I Hated My Life… My House, My Family, My Backyard, My Power Mower. Nothing Would Ever Change; Nothing New Could Ever Be Expected. It Had To End, And It Did. Now In The Dark World Where I Dwell, Ugly Things, And Surprising Things, And Sometimes Little Wondrous Things, Spill Out In Me Constantly, And I Can Count On Nothing.

I Am A Reader. I Am A Writer. People Assume I Do These Things To Escape. You Couldn't Be More Right. I'm Escaping A World I Don't Like. A World I Have No Control In. In This World, I Am Nothing. I Am A Color, A Height, A Weight, A Number. But In The World Of Books And Writing, I Am Amazing. I Am Powerful. I Am Different. People Are Better. Worlds Are Endless. Change Is Possible. Life Is Manageable.

Why Is Love So Good...? You Love Someone And They Leave. They Come Home One Day And You Say "what's Happening?" And They Say, "i Got A Better Offer Someplace Else," And There They Go, Out Of Your Life Forever, And After That Until You're Dead You're Carrying Around This Huge Hunk Of Love With No One To Give It To. And If You Do Find Someone To Give It To, The Same Thing Happens All Over.

They Wanted To Have A Good Time, But They Were Like Children Playing In The Street; They Could See One After Another Of Them Being Killed--run Over, Maimed, Destroyed--but They Continued To Play Anyhow.

Maybe I'll Go Where I Can See Stars, He Said To Himself As The Car Gained Velocity And Altitude; It Headed Away From San Francisco, Toward The Uninhabited Desolation To The North. To The Place Where No Living Thing Would Go. Not Unless It Felt That The End Had Come.