Lying became part of my life. I lied if I needed to lie to get something or get out of something

My life has been like all the lives, long and hard and full of sadness and confusion and horror, a frightening, difficult dream punctuated by brief moments of joy. And as is the case with all people's lives, the moments of joy are never often enough and never long enough.

I think of how and why and what happened and the thoughts come easily, but the answers don't.

I've always wondered what it would be like if the Messiah, or Christ Returned, were actually alive and living in our society; who would that person be, how we would identify them, how would they live and what would they believe in, how would society react to them? I decided to try and tell my idea of that story.

I meet a third man he's an old man he trips in the street he falls and I help him up, walk him to the curb. He shakes my hand says keep the faith, young man. I ask him what he means, he says keep running and don't let them catch you.

In life we often look to others for simple, but difficult answers, despite the fact that we have those answers ourselves.

Trauma is survivable, but often not much more. It kills you while allowing you to still live.