You Are Wrong If You Think Joy

Heaven, For Me, Is One Focused Project - It's Like A Weird Form Of Autism.

At Long Last He Was Unencumbered, Emancipated From The Stifling World Of His Parents And Peers, A World Of Abstraction And Security And Material Excess, A World In Which He Felt Grievously Cut Off From The Raw Throb Of Existence.

Hours Slide By Like Minutes. The Accumulated Clutter Of Day-to-day Existence — The Lapses Of Conscience, The Unpaid Bills, The Bungled Opportunities, The Dust Under The Couch, The Inescapable Prison Of Your Genes — All Of It Is Temporarily Forgotten, Crowded From Your Thoughts By An Overpowering Clarity Of Purpose And By The Seriousness Of The Task At Hand.

The Desert Sharpened The Sweet Ache Of His Longing, Amplified It, Gave Shape To It In Sere Geology And Clean Slant Of Light.

Its Not Always Necessary To Be Strong, But To Feel Strong.