I Can't Imagine Being Invested In Someone

Do You Have Doubts About Life? Are You Unsure If It's Worth The Trouble? Look At The Sky: That Is For You. Look At Each Person's Face As You Pass On The Street: Those Faces Are For You. And The Street Itself, And The Ground Under The Street And The Ball Of Fire Underneath The Ground: All These Things Are For You. They Are As Much For You As They Are For Other People. Remember This When You Wake Up In The Morning And Think You Have Nothing. Stand Up And Face The East. Now Praise The Sky And Praise The Light Within Each Person Under The Sky. It's Okay To Be Unsure. But Praise, Praise, Praise.

I Think Titles Are Tricky Because They're Like A Really Short Ad For The Book. And Like An Ad, They Should Open The Door In A Way That Might Be More Accessible Than The Book Itself. So I Always Like Titles To Be Familiar. I'm Not Trying To Break Ground With The Title Itself. The Title Should Feel Like Something Already Celebrated.

The Whole Thing Of Working In All These Different Mediums, It's Just So That I Can Always Be Playing Hooky From One Of Them. I Can Always Be Rebelling Against My Boss. Like, I'm Supposed To Be Writing This Book, But - Heh Heh Heh - I'm Writing A Movie, Secretly. I'm Procrastinating, And In My Off-hours I'm Working On This Movie That I'm Not Allowed To Do, Because I'm Supposed To Be Writing A Book!

You've Got The People You Know, Which Are Problematic. Always. They're Rich But They're Also Real People Living Their Lives Alongside You. Then You've Got The People That You Make-up Completely, Who Are Often Missing A Dimension If They Don't Have Some Reference To Real People. So Strangers Exist In This In-between Space, Where In Not Knowing Them, You Are Creating A Fiction For Them, Even In Passing, But At The Same Time, There They Are, With Their Actual Bodies And Their Actual Clothes. It's Totally Enticing.

Are You Angry? Punch A Pillow. Was It Satisfying? Not Hardly. These Days People Are Too Angry For Punching. What You Might Try Is Stabbing. Take An Old Pillow And Lay It On The Front Lawn. Stab It With A Big Pointy Knife. Again And Again And Again. Stab Hard Enough For The Point Of The Knife To Go Into The Ground. Stab Until The Pillow Is Gone And You Are Just Stabbing The Earth Again And Again, As If You Want To Kill It For Continuing To Spin, As If You Are Getting Revenge For Having To Live On This Planet Day After Day, Alone.