Birthdays are ghost bounty hunters that track you down to ask, "Que pasa, baby?

One of the curious effects of a bad hangover is that you think you're wrong whether you are or not. Not wrong in particulars, but wrong in general, wrong about everything.

Strangely, when I totally emerged from this slump I couldn't comprehend how I had almost drowned it it.

I seek the substantial in life.

As an English major I was familiar with the stories of dozens of writers trying to get their work done among the multifarious diversions of the world and the hurdles of their own vices. A professor had said that what saved writers is that they, like politicians, had the illusion of destiny that allowed them to overcome obstacles no matter how nominal their work.

Some people hear their own inner voices with great clearness and they live by what they hear. Such people become crazy, or they become legends.

Everybody has a gun in their car in Detroit.