I Write About What I Know; And

Some People Think Love Is The End Of The Road, And If You're Lucky Enough To Find It, You Stay There. Other People Say It Just Becomes A Cliff You Drive Off, But Most People Who've Been Around Awhile Know It's Just A Thing That Changes Day By Day, And Depending On How Much You Fight For It, You Get It, Or You Hold On To It, Or You Lose It, But Sometimes It's Never Even There In The First Place.

How Inevitable It Is; We Step Into An Ordinary Moment And Never Come Out Again.

Things In Life Have No Real Beginning, Though Our Stories About Them Always Do.

The Repeated Lies Become History, But They Don't Necessarily Become The Truth.

Stories Are There To Be Told, And Each Story Changes With The Telling. Time Changes Them. Logic Changes Them. Grammar Changes Them. History Changes Them. Each Story Is Shifted Side-ways By Each Day That Unfolds. Nothing Ends. The Only Thing That Matters, As Faulkner Once Put It, Is The Human Heart In Conflict With Itself. At The Heart Of All This Is The Possibility, Or Desire, To Create A Piece Of Art That Talks To The Human Instinct For Recovery And Joy.