Your life feels different on you, once you greet death and understand your heart's position.

Our tribe unraveled like a coarse rope, frayed at either end as the old and new among us were taken.

There will never come a time when I will be able to resist my emotions.

Don't read anything except what destroys the insulation between yourself and your experience.

This so gnawed at him on some nights that he lay awake wondering just how many unknown and similarly inconsequential accidents and bits of happenstance were at this moment occurring or failing to occur in order to ensure he took his next breath, and the next.

I want to remember what bullshit looks like when weapons of mass destruction are diagrammed out and whacko "intelligence" is delivered in an ominous way to strike fear into people and especially to pull on the idealism and zeal of the young.

What happens when you let an unsatisfactory present go on long enough? It becomes your entire history.