As A Writer, My Main Objective Is

First, You Hand Over Some Basics-overwhelming Joy, Existential Angst, A Giving-in To Desire, Etc. And Then You Promise To Withstand Talking Idly About The Weather, To Encourage Cliché, To Uphold The Virtues Of Average. You Hand Over The Need To Be Understood And, In Return, You Get A Bar Of Normal Soap. And You Can Wash In It And Be Daily Reborn To A Safe World Of Modest, Enduring Love Or, At Least, Mild, Well-mannered Bonding.

I Want To Keep Looking At Ways To Stride Forward With Positivity.

Don't Shame The Young For Releasing Their Pent-up Fear.

She Glances Back Before Stepping Into The Alley, And She Catches Her Grandfather Looking At Her The Way He Does Sometimes--as If She's Already Gone, As If He's Practicing Sorrow.

Try To Think Of Writing As A Gift - More Complexly Put: It Is The Curse And The Cure.