When I Was Very Little, I Probably

Well,i Have A Theory That Men Don't Actually Cry Less Than Women,they Just Do It Differently. Since We Never Saw Our Fathers Cry,we Are Forced To Invent Our Own Unique Method.

I Wrestle My Fears With Every Big Decision I Make. Ultimately, Maybe All That Wrestling Does Is Make You Sick Of Your Own Thoughts, And So With Nothing Resolved You Just Go Ahead And Have Unprotected Sex. The Moment I Became Pregnant, Everything Became Out Of Gait. None Of Those Fears Seem Relevant In The Same Way, And That's So Like Life, That Once You Do The Daring Move You're In A Totally Different Landscape. Now It's A New Story.

You've Got The People You Know, Which Are Problematic. Always. They're Rich But They're Also Real People Living Their Lives Alongside You. Then You've Got The People That You Make-up Completely, Who Are Often Missing A Dimension If They Don't Have Some Reference To Real People. So Strangers Exist In This In-between Space, Where In Not Knowing Them, You Are Creating A Fiction For Them, Even In Passing, But At The Same Time, There They Are, With Their Actual Bodies And Their Actual Clothes. It's Totally Enticing.

We Humans Are Here Because Nothing Can Be Perfect. There Always Have To Be Some Living Things That Are Unsatisfied, Itchy, Trying Too Hard. If It Was All Just Animals And Rocks And Lettuce, The Gods Wouldn't Feel Like They Had Enough To Do.

In My Paranoid World Every Storekeeper Thinks I’m Stealing, Every Man Thinks I’m A Prostitute Or A Lesbian, Every Woman Thinks I’m A Lesbian Or Arrogant, And Every Child And Animal Sees The Real Me And It Is Evil.