What is life? Life is potential. Every moment of life contains a great potential. Positive potential energy to propel you forward, negative potential energy to send you backwards.

One question writers get asked a lot is “How did you create your characters?” or ”How did you think of your story?” I think the people who ask these questions believe that writers actually sit

I live in a big city. The city has no name, but there is talk that long ago it was named New York City. The year is 2069 and it is winter.

if there is a woman as cheap as old abandoned cigarettes hand-rolled: to release to eject my frustrations with this fucking world which sells itself as modes of desire

I'm going to become a gardener and sing about foliage.

A lifeless body, A bodiless soul. Stiff hands, stiff feet, A heart without a beat. A brain, with no power to feed. Eyes without any sort of fluid, Nothing to see, Motionless lips,

If you don't have a dream...

Today, done up like a kipper, forgiveness belongs elsewhere. From his vantage point he sees a range of yellow hills - the vistas of lost childhood - the city walls and scrubland beyond.