When you go out with a drunk, you’ll notice how a drunk fills your glass so he can empty his own. As long as you’re drinking, drinking is okay. Two’s company. Drinking is fun. If there’s a bottle, even if your glass isn’t empty, a drunk, he’ll pour a little in your glass before he fills his own. This only looks like generosity.

Everybody's still miserable in the same way they've always been miserable, and more and more of my friends - especially my male friends - find themselves taking anti-anxiety, psychotropic drugs. It seems like everybody I know is wondering if they're really who they are, or once the prescription runs out, will they become someone different?

Are these things really better than the things I already have? Or am I just trained to be dissatisfied with what I have now?

I write compulsively. I've got so many ideas, and I love to do it so much, I can't not do it. I write the way some people do drugs.

It's pathetic how we can't live with the things we can't understand. How we need everything labeled and explained and deconstructed.

Either a species learns to control its own population, or something like disease, famine, war, will take care of the issue.

We'll be remembered more for what we destroy than what we create.