Today something interesting happened. I died.

In the end, I cared about him so much that I just thought he deserved someone who loved him more than I did.

I didn’t see the point of judging and analyzing a single moment in someone’s life.

Once you've started down that road to self-discovery, no matter how treacherous the path before you, you can't turn back. The universe doesn't allow it.

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.

Today something interesting happened. I died.

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.