So This Is Where The

We Are Too Kind, Too Willing--too Unwilling Too--reaching Out Blindly With A Grasping Hand But Not Knowing How To Ask For What We Don't Even Know We Want.

Go For Long Walks, Indulge In Hot Baths, Question Your Assumptions, Be Kind To Yourself, Live For The Moment, Loosen Up, Scream, Curse The World, Count Your Blessings, Just Let Go, Just Be.

The Silence Is Perfect, And Yet A Torment.

Happiness Is The Lucky Pane Of Glass You Carry In Your Head. It Takes All Your Cunning Just To Hang On To It, And Once It's Smashed You Have To Move Into A Different Sort Of Life.

This Is Why I Read Novels: So I Can Escape My Own Unrelenting Monologue.