We Only See Starlight Because

There’s No Way To Really Preserve A Person When They’ve Gone And That’s Because Whatever You Write Down It’s Not The Truth, It’s Just A Story. Stories Are All We’re Ever Left With In Our Head Or On Paper: Clever Narratives Put Together From Selected Facts, Legends, Well Edited Tall Tales With Us In The Starring Roles

Texas Has No System In Place, And What You Have Is Chaos.

Beer. It Always Seems Like Such A Good Idea At The Time, Doesn't It? What's Worse Is Beer Seems Like An Even Better Idea After You've Had Some Beer.

Already The Dream Was Coming Apart, Its Bright Silk Strands Unwinding Into Nebulous Emotions, Little Coloured Clouds Of Feeling Being Dispersed By The Movement Of My Waking-up Mind. This Is How It's Always Been With Light Bulb Fragment Dreams; By The Time I'm Fully Awake, They're Gone.

It's A Stark Thought That When We Die Most Of Us Will Leave Behind Uneaten Biscuits, Unused Coffee, Half Toilet Rolls, Half Cartons Of Milk In The Fridge To Go Sour; That Everyday Functional Things Will Outlive Us And Prove That We Weren't Ready To Go; That We Weren't Smart Or Knowing Or Heroic; That We Were Just Animals Whose Animal Bodies Stopped Working Without Any Sort Of Schedule Or Any Consent From Us.