Laughing And Love. They Are Both Drugs.

What Someone Calls My Books Is Irrelevant To Me. I Consider Them Works Of Art And Rules And Categories And Labels Mean Nothing.

To Live With Angels And Chase Their Dreams.

I Love The Process Of Being Alone In A Room.

She Is Sitting On Frozen Ground Wrapped In A Blanket, Her Pale Skin Shining. She Smiles And She Stands And Without Words, She Steps Forward, Opens The Blanket, Envelops Me Within It And Within Her And Within Myself. She Kisses My Cheek, The One Not Torn, She Wraps Me And She Holds Me. Her Arms Are Thin But Strong. She Whispers In My Ear, "i'm Glad You're Here.

Its Not Just A Smile Of Momentary Happiness. When It Disappears From My Face, It Will Stay With Me.