I Guess I Consider Myself At Times

I Don't Think That I Would Ever, While Writing, Think To Myself, "i Need A Little More Psychological Realism."

And This Is How I Know That It's All Just Words, Words, Words - That Fundamentally, They Make No Difference... Our Relationship, For As Long As Things Were Good, And In That Moment When They Could Have Been Good Again, Was About The Irrelevance Of Words. You Feel What You Feel, You Act As You Act, Who In The History Of The World Has Ever Been Convinced By A Well-reasoned Argument?

I Gave People The Benefit Of The Doubt, Thinking, So Many People That Appear Very Calm And Even Boring Must Have All These Wild Emotions And Crazy Ideas.

Well, I Think That If You Sincerely Try To Imagine What Life Is Like For Another Person - Not In A Mocking Way, Not In A Satirical Way, But In A Sincere, Compassionate Way - I Don't Think That's Exploitive.

I Have Always Found The Times When Another Person Recognizes You To Be Strangely Sad; I Suspect The Pathos Of These Moments Is Their Rareness, The Way They Contrast With Most Daily Encounters. That Reminder That It Can Be Different, That You Need Not Go Through Your Life Unknown But That You Probably Still Will--that Is The Part That's Almost Unbearable.