Soon we could barely recognize them. They were taller than we were, and heavier. They were loud beyond belief. I feel like a duck that's hatched goose's eggs.

We lost weight and grew thin. We stopped bleeding. We stopped dreaming. We stopped wanting.

Or was their guilt written plainly, and for all the world to see, across their face? Was it their face, in fact, for which they were guilty?

Share, share, share your experience, feelings, anxiety.

I'm not going to argue with people about the existence of God. I have not the vaguest idea of whether the universe was created by an intelligence.

All adventure is now reactionary.

I do have a political agenda. It's to have as few regulations as possible.

One thing I've learned: My intentions are clear in terms of quality.

O come all ye faithful, Joyful and triumphant, O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem.

I know that I've overfed myself trying to prop myself up because I'm exhausted.

Your imagination can create a reality

I was a bit of a tomboy, so I played softball and basketball. Then I was also a cheerleader. And I played flute too.

I suppose every time [something bad happens], I have that instinct to make that joke that distracts.