Because Of Fear, They Made Shelter And

I Don't Know What She Is Now. A Stranger, Mostly. It's As If She Has Become A Part Of A Different World, One That Doesn't Include Me Anymore.

The Mind Can’t Explain It, And You Can’t Make It Go Away. It’s Called Love.

Writing Is Hard Work, And Fun, And Requires You To Keep Your Backside In A Chair When You Would Sometimes Like To Put It Elsewhere. So The Only Wisdom Is The Advice To Keep At It, I Guess.

But Then Everyone Would Be Burdened And Pained. They Don't Want That. And That's The Real Reason The Receiver Is So Vital To Them, And So Honored. They Selected Me--and You-to Lift That Burden From Themselves.

It's Just That... Without The Memories It's All Meaningless.