Except For A God Who Sits Down

Who Would Fare Better In This World Of Fitful Time? Those Who Have Seen The Future And Live Only One Life? Or Those Who Have Not Seen The Future And Wait To Live Life? Or Those Who Deny The Future And Live Two Lives?

Unconditional Love. That’s What He Wants To Give Her And What He Wants From Her. People Should Give Without Wanting Anything In Return. All Other Giving Is Selfish. But He Is Being Selfish A Little, Isn’t He, By Wanting Her To Love Him In Return? He Hopes That She Loves Him In Return. Is It Possible For A Person To Love Without Wanting Love Back? Is Anything So Pure? Or Is Love, By Its Nature, A Reciprocity, Like Oceans And Clouds, An Evaporating Of Seawater And A Replenishing Of Rain?

That Has Been The Great Achievement Of Our Age: To So Thoroughly Flood The Planet With Megabits That Every Image And Fact Has Become A Digitized Disembodied Nothingness. With Magnificent Determination, Our Species Has Advanced From Stone Age To Industrial Revolution To Digital Emptiness. We've Become Weightless, In The Bad Sense Of The Word.

It Is A World Of Impulse. It Is A World Of Sincerity. It Is A World In Which Every Word Spoken Speaks Just To That Moment, Every Glance Given Has Only One Meaning, Each Touch Has No Past Or No Future, Each Kiss Is A Kiss Of Immediacy.

Another Strand Of My Writing Is The Importance Of The Idea. If You Think About Fiction Writing As A Spectrum, Where At One End Of The Spectrum In The Infrared, Are The Story Tellers, And The People For Whom Creation Of Wonderful Characters And Telling A Good Story Is The Most Important Thing.