The Only Way We Know

In The Midst Of My Skeptical, Cynical, Often Pessimistic Nature Exists A Slender Capacity To Believe, If Only Temporarily, In A Guiding, Unseen Power, And Whenever This Happens, I Go With It. That's What Inspiration Is. You Don't Get It From The Gods. You Make It.

They Made Us Participate In Their Own Madness, Because We Couldn't Help But Retrace Their Steps, Rethink Their Thoughts, And See That None Of Them Led To Us.

If You Think Of Even Tolstoy Or A Book Like 'anna Karenina,' You Go From Character To Character, And Each Section Is From The Third Person Perspective Of A Different Character, So You Get To See The Whole World A Little More Kaleidoscopically That Way. That's Traditional Narrative Manner, And I Haven't Done A Book Like That Before, But I Enjoyed It.

I Was Thinking How Amazing It Was That The World Contained So Many Lives. Out In These Streets People Were Embroiled In A Thousand Different Matters, Money Problems, Love Problems, School Problems. People Were Falling In Love, Getting Married, Going To Drug Rehab, Learning How To Ice-skate, Getting Bifocals, Studying For Exams, Trying On Clothes, Getting Their Hair-cut And Getting Born. And In Some Houses People Were Getting Old And Sick And Were Dying, Leaving Others To Grieve. It Was Happening All The Time, Unnoticed, And It Was The Thing That Really Mattered.

If Mitchell Was Ever Going To Become A Good Christian, He Would Have To Stop Disliking People So Intensely.