Today something interesting happened. I died.
The past is history. The future is a mystery. The present is a gift.
Bored people looked for drama and caused trouble.
The truth has not so much set us free as it has ripped away a carefully constructed facade, leaving us naked to begin again.
Hope is good. Without it, well, you do the math. But hope has to be like a prayer. Putting it out there to something more powerful than yourself.
Writers are first and foremost observers. We lose ourselves in the watching and then the telling of the world we find. Often we feel on the fringes, in the margins of life. And that's where we belong. What you are a part of, you cannot observe.