Once A Year, She Remembers

You're Breaking Out Of Character, Again.

I Met A Lot Of Great People In Saudi Arabia And I'd Like To See Them Again. And I'd Love To Spend More Time In The Desert And In The Mountains. I Felt Really At Home There.

Everyone In The Life Before Was Cranky, I Think, Because They Just Wanted To Know. --after I Was Thrown In The River And Before I Drowned

And There Is A Chance That Everything We Did Was Incorrect, But Stasis Is Itself Criminal For Those With The Means To Move, And The Means To Weave Communion Between People.

People Say I Talk Slowly. I Talk In A Way Sometimes Called Laconic. The Phone Rings, I Answer, And People Ask If They've Woken Me Up. I Lose My Way In The Middle Of Sentences, Leaving People Hanging For Minutes. I Have No Control Over It. I'll Be Talking, And Will Be Interested In What I'm Saying, But Then Someone-i'm Convinced This What Happens-someone-and I Wish I Knew Who, Because I Would Have Words For This Person-for A Short Time, Borrows My Head. Like A Battery Is Borrowed From A Calculator To Power A Remote Control, Someone, Always, Is Borrowing My Head.