It's Hard To Love A Place That's

If You Are Any Kind Of An Artist, Then Validation . . . Can Be A Result, But You're Going To Do The Work Anyway.

It Make One's Mouth Hurt To Speak With Such Forced Merriment.

As I Searched The Atlas For Somewhere To Run To, Hugh Made A Case For His Old Stomping Grounds. His First Suggestion Was Beirut, Where He Went To Nursery School. His Family Left There In The Midsixties And Moved To The Congo. After That, It Was Ethiopia, And Then Somalia, All Fine Places In His Opinion. 'let's Save Africa And The Middle East For When I Decide To Quit Living,' I Said.

I'm For Gay Elopement, Not For Gay Weddings. I've Been With My Boyfriend For Twenty Years. I Don't Feel Like That Would Validate Our Relationship In Any Way. But I Would Really Fight For Someone Else To Have The Right. Just Elope, Though, Please.

I Am A Person Who Feels Guilty For Crimes I Have Not Committed, Or Have Not Committed In Years. The Police Search The Train Station For A Serial Rapist And I Cover My Face With A Newspaper, Wondering If Maybe I Did It In My Sleep. The Last Thing I Stole Was An Eight-track Tape, But To This Day I'm Unable To Enter A Store Without Feeling Like A Shoplifter. It's All The Anxiety With None Of The Free Stuff.