Writing Is Not A Profession.

One Day I Was Living Silently In A Personal Hell, Without Anyone To Tell What I Felt, Without Even Knowing That The Feelings I Had Were Possible To Have; And Then One Day I Was Not Living Like That At All. I Had Begun To See The Past Like This: There Is A Line; You Can Draw It Yourself, Or Sometimes It Gets Drawn For You; Either Way, There It Is, Your Past, A Collection Of People You Used To Be And Things You Used To Do. Your Past Is The Person You No Longer Are, The Situations You Are No Longer In.

I Think Life Is Difficult And That's That. I Am Not At All - Absolutely Not At All - Interested In The Pursuit Of Happiness. I Am Not Interested In The Pursuit Of Positivity. I Am Interested In Pursuing A Truth, And The Truth Often Seems To Be Not Happiness But Its Opposite.

I've Never Gotten Used To Winter And Never Will.

"race." I Really Can't Understand It As Anything Other Than Something People Say. The People Who Have Said That You And I Are Both "black" And Therefore Deserve A Certain Kind Of Interaction With The World, They Make Race. I Can't Take Them Seriously.

The Slave Trade Was Globalism. Why People Insist That Globalism, After Its Hideous History, Is A Good Thing, I Do Not Know.