I've kind of realized life is meant to be tough and everybody is in psychic and spiritual discomfort of some sort and has a burden to carry. I've realized I'm not special.

I think denial's fascinating. It's a jokey word, but it really happens, and sometimes in enormous ways.

Here's how it is: I feel guilty about every single bite of food that goes into my mouth.

I used to write in bed, starting when I woke up. I believe that creative work comes from our subconscious mind, so I try to keep the gap between sleep and writing as minimal as possible.

I sighed. "What is life but fleeting moments of happiness strung together on necklace of despair?

Political correctness is a minefield

It was only when the salt water of my tears ran into my cuts and made them sting that I discovered I was crying.