why do you have to be so dense?  “I don’t know I’m doing it, i swear—or I don’t see it, because it’s not dense to me.  i can help with that; you need a link to everyday people  ”you think you’re everyday people?”  I can understand you, others can’t  ”you can’t understand me.”  Maybe […]

     I remembered some shameful things—such as walking into a hotel and saying, loudly, “Can you believe this s-h-i-t?  Nasa is trying to force me to be the president of the United States!”  It was an awful, shameful night, which might seem endearing if I actually do become the president of the United States, but

     My husband is kind  this was Jack Daniel’s wife talking—so long as Jack was president, she was getting rich.  but why was she speaking to me—but, that’s just it, i don’t think she was.  I think somebody sent me a message, saying something along the lines of you are kind.  sometimes things are switched

     what do you choose?  do you choose me?  “of course i choose you!”  I was getting a little annoyed.  For someone with so much confidence and so many people behind her, Ursula was actually a little insecure.  She keeps so busy she doesn’t have time to feel all the motions that she has—that want

     you win some, you lose some  now, for the first time in a long time—i was writing love poetry using a voice i won’t name to sound out the consonants and i was using Ursula’s voice, as I usually do, to pronounce the vowels—i tried on a few different voices when i was writing

     My breathing had been a little shallower of late, or I had been counting in longer strides, and, I figured, a four count might, in some cases, keep people out—or be good for email, but, in some cases, it was best to relax and do what felt the most comfortable—which, at this moment, anyhow,

     i have genuine concerns that once you make it to the top you’ll try and sleep with other people.  “let’s worry about that when that happens—or are you saying that you believe in me?  So why would i want to go somewhere else?”  i’d spent no small amount of time over the years trying

     it wasn’t happening to me; it was happening to him  “Who?  Picasso?”  here i was, making excuses for him, saying he couldn’t help the way he behaved—look at all the cigarettes he smoked—he had a mental illness, he couldn’t help himself.   since i saw the interview with Picasso, and heard his voice, i had

     What are you going to do when the world comes tumbling down?  It sounded like she was singing a song: “is that a song?”  i made up some notes to break through your defenses; I was beginning to realize that Ursula liked to play around—better than boredom, i figured, so fine.  As long as

     why do you think you should go to church?  You’re not affiliated with anybody—you don’t even like Christians—or are you going to go to a Buddhist church?  “They wouldn’t accept me.  Nobody would.”  Why, then?  “Because if I didn’t I’d never be around other human beings.”  so yeah, no church, and rightly so, since,