I'm Afraid To Breathe In Case I

Must Protect My Little Pockets Of Happiness.

I Roll Onto My Side And Stare Out The Venetian Blinds At The Blue Sky Beyond. After A Few Minutes I'm Lulled Into A Sort Of Peace. The Sky, The Sky--same As It Always Was.

The Only Thing That Makes Me Crazier Than Writing Is Not Writing.

We Traveled For Two Weeks With A Pickled Hippo.

The Whole Thing's Illusion, [jacob], And There's Nothing Wrong With That. It's What People Want From Us. It's What They Expect.