Part Of Me Still Loves.

People Don't Want To Accept The Responsibility For Their Own Weakness, So They Place The Blame On Something That They're Not Responsible For, Like Disease Or Genetics.

L.a Is A Huge Place, Literally And Metaphorically. Its Beauty And Horror. Its Unconventional History. Its Draw And Allure. Its Diversity And Segregation.

I'm Writing Books. They're Still A Mix Of Fact And Fiction And Will Continue To Be. I Think It's An Interesting Place To Work.

I Try To Make The Voice In My Head Come Out Onto The Page. I Try To Make It Much More Conversational Than Other Writing. I Speak Everything, So If Something Sounds Right I Write It. It's More About Sound And The Rhythm Of Speech Than Written Language.

This Moment And This Chance, They Are The Same, And They Are Mine If I Choose Them,and I Do. I Want Them. Now And As Long As I Can Have Them They Are Both Precious And Fleeting And Gone In The Blink Of An Eye, Don't Waste Them. A Moment And An Opportunity And A Life, All In The Unseen Tick Of A Clock Holding Me Nowhere. My Heart Is Beating. The Walls Are Pale And Quiet. I Am Surviving.