Words Are Our Life. We Are Human

In One Day I Had Altered My Life; My Life, Therefore, Was Alterable. This Simple Axiom Did Not Call Out For Exegesis; No, It Entered My Bloodstream Directly, As Powerful As Heroin. I Could Feel It Pump And Surge, The Way It Brightened My Veins To A Kind Of Glass. I Had Wakened That Morning To Narrowness And Predestination And Now I Was Falling Asleep In The Storm Of My Own Free Will.

So This Is Where The Years Of Maturity Deliver Us - To This Needy, Selfish, Unwieldy Wish To Be Somebody Else's First And Primal Other.

It's Hard Work Being A Person, You Have To Do It Every Single Day.

Why Should Men Be Allowed To Strut Under The Privilege Of Their Life Adventures, Wearing Them Like A Breast Full Of Medals, While Women Went All Gray And Silent Beneath The Weight Of Theirs?

Anyone's Childhood Can Be An Act Of Disablement If Rehearsed And Replayed And Squinted At In A Certain Light. . .