If you know me so well, tell me which hand that I use.
I don't want to sit on the sidelines and not value the gift of being here. Instead of the idea of time ticking away, the grains of sand running out, I try to think of time as giving me another grain of sand, another gift. So time passing is an accumulation, rather than a diminishing.
I guess my husband is a muse as well.
On some of my darkest days, Lucifer's the one who comes and gives me an ice cream.
There's a side to this industry that nurtures divas who can't write. It's a big business.
People can travel great distances on a computer, so why can't we travel that way emotionally?