Come and rave at the humanity of it all.

With me.

You know you want to. You just don't know how, or why.

If I had the answers, I'd keep them to myself too. Or maybe drop hints and pieces. But I know how to hold my tongue. Life has become an exercise in holding my tongue.

Fear is not depression and exasperation is not hatred. It may help to repeat that to yourself when the going gets tough.

I am neither tough nor tender. When it's time, I'll put on my walking boots.

You're welcome to come with... but only if you learn the art of silence.

I know people who can say more with a handful of careful syllables than most people will ever say in their lives.

Now it's raining, and I'm thinking that this is not stream of consciousness... stream of consciousness is no where near as deliberate as the lies that I tell here.

I think people are -- perhaps -- finally reaching the proper conclusion. That conclusion is --

Truth is not self-evident. If you find any here, it is incidental. Or perhaps you are looking too hard. My words are a mirror, and mirrors are magic. Just stare at your reflection by candlelight and try to tell me otherwise.