We lie. That's what we do. You're selling me a line of bullshit and you want me to sell you a line of bullshit back so you can write a major line of bullshit and be paid for it.
She looks like someone I want to know, or maybe even be.
It's turning out to be a bad day, a day when the sun feels like teeth.
Too clear, too clean. The problem was precision, perfection.
I am at my worst trying to write about things that overlap with my life.
The problem was precision, perfection; the problem was digitization, which sucked the life out of everything that got smeared through its microscopic mesh.