I do have trouble with titles.

The world that used to nurse us now keeps shouting inane instructions. That's why I ran to the woods.

In a life properly lived, you're a river.

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

So when I made some money, I didn't have any idea how one handled such a situation because no one in our family ever had any money.

Death steals everything except our stories.

That's my only defense against this world: to build a sentence out of it.