Don't You Ever Feel That

...and Our Footsteps Rang And Echoed Till It Sounded Like The Room Was Full Of Dancers, The House Calling Up All The People Who Had Danced Here Across Centuries Of Spring Evenings, Gallant Girls Seeing Gallant Boys Off To War, Old Men And Women Straight-backed While Outside Their World Disintegrated And The New One Battered At Their Doors, All Of Them Bruised And All Of Them Laughing, Welcoming Us Into Their Long Lineage.

I Wanted To Tell Her That Being Loved Is A Talent Too, That It Takes As Much Guts And As Much Work As Loving; That Some People, For Whatever Reason, Never Learn The Knack

You Start Admiring Someone Who's Famous For Actually Doing Something---imagine That---and I Swear To You I Will Buy You Every Item In Her Entire Wardrobe. But Over My Own Dead Body Will I Spend My Own Time And Money Turning You Into A Clone Of Some Brain-dead Waste Of Skin Who Thinks The Pinnacle Of Achievement Is Selling Her Wedding Shots To A Magazine.

This Girl: She Bent Reality Around Her Like A Lens Bending Light, She Pleated It Into So Many Flickering Layers That You Could Never Tell Which One You Were Looking At, The Longer You Stared The Dizzier You Got.

Our Entire Society Is Based On Discontent. People Wanting More And More And More. Being Constantly Dissatisfied With Their Homes, Their Bodies, Their Décor, Their Clothes, Everything – Taking It For Granted That That’s The Whole Point Of Life. Never To Be Satisfied. If You Are Perfectly Happy With What You Got, Especially If What You Got Isn’t Even All The Spectacular Then You’re Dangerous. You’re Breaking All The Rules. You’re Undermining The Sacred Economy. You’re Challenging Every Assumption That Society Is Built On.