I diagnosed my loneliness as premature empty nest syndrome.

No one knows who the real me is, so I can be a hundred different kinds of me.

I'd hate to be a writer forever and never perform, and I'd hate to perform and not write. I get sad if time has passed and I haven't written or made anything. I'm an artist.

I would like to be known as someone who was really sweet but also knowledgeable in all areas of life.

I mean if you two were to make love, that would be gay. Two men touching each other physically and emotionally...erotically caressing each other...on the hood of a car...or the back of a movie theater.

This is very ambitious, but I don't care. I'm just gonna go ahead and find Amelia Earhart. Every day that goes by, I just fear the worst for her.

You know, quite a few species of fish require two or more sexual partners.