Depression is like slashing at ghosts. Of course it's tempting to finally cut something real.

I am writing to apply for the position of bookkeeper. Attached, you will find my list of qualifications. I have been keeping books for four years now, and I am never going to give them back.

Having all the answers just means you've been asking boring questions.

Memories are like everything else. They're a trap.

Satellite images, maps and blueprints of the whole world, of every city. We could look it up and know what's there in someone else's words. Or we could get wicked drunk and just go.

And when our sun explodes and we are all destroyed, we'll be rocks and chunks of I am not sure what, and maybe we'll rain down on somewhere else.

I feel the way bank robbers must feel before they go out on that last job that ends up getting them all killed. That is to say, optimistic.