Money Helps, Though Not So

The Internet, Which Seems Now So Embedded And Personal And Crucial To Our Lives, Isn't At All - We Really Shouldn't Think Of It That Way.

People Forget The Good, Because The Bad Has More Punch.

Hunger Steals The Memory

We Started Dying Before The Snow, And Like The Snow, We Continued To Fall.

At Times The Whole Sky Was Ringed In Shooting Points And Puckers Of Light Gathering And Falling, Pulsing, Fading, Rhythmical As Breathing. All Of A Piece. As If The Sky Were A Pattern Of Nerves And Our Thought And Memories Traveled Across It. As If The Sky Were One Gigantic Memory For Us All.