She Was Just A Shell Of Her

Outside, The Ocean Was Crashing, Waves Hitting Sand, Then Pulling Back To Sea. I Thought Of Everything Being Washed Away, Again And Again. We Make Such Messes In This Life, Both Accidentally And On Purpose. But Wiping The Surface Clean Doesn't Really Make Anything Neater. It Just Masks What Is Below. It's Only When You Really Dig Down Deep, Go Underground, That You Can See Who You Really Are.

I Think Part Of The Problem Sometimes Is That There's So Much Happening In My Books, To Whittle It Down Into A Single Script Is Hard.

Events Conspired To Bring You Back To Where You'd Been. It Was What You Did Then That Made All The Difference: It Was All About Potential.

Never Would Forever, With All Its Meanings, Be So Clear And Distinct As In The True, Guaranteed End Of The World.

Being Brave And Self-confident Doesn't Necessarily Start Inside...it Starts With The Rest Of The World, And It Leads Back To You.