Write About The Thing That

Jesus Was A Suicide, If You Ask Me.

There Is No Point In Trying To Remember Your Dreams ... There Is Only The Unspeakable Joy Of Eavesdropping On Your Spirit, Catching Tiny Glimpses Of Its Independent Life, Resting For A Moment In Its Wisdom, Puzzling, Laughing Sometimes, Over What It's Up To, What It Makes Of You.

People Do Think That If They Avoid The Truth, It Might Change To Something Better Before They Have To Hear It.

No. You Can't. And I Can't Do Anything Either, About My Life, To Change It, Make It Better, Make Me Feel Better About It. Like It Better, Make It Work. But I Can Stop It. Shut It Down, Turn It Off Like The Radio When There's Nothing On I Want To Listen To. It's All I Really Have That Belongs To Me And I'm Going To Say What Happens To It. And It's Going To Stop. And I'm Going To Stop It. So. Let's Just Have A Good Time.

At The Heart Of The Failure Of Most Plays Is The Inability To Carry On A Thoughtful Conversation About Your Work With Yourself.