Society is a wave. The wave moves onward, but the water of which it is composed does not.
Mom's eyes blazed. "Are you sleeping with her?" Oh, god. Did we have to do this here? Now? "Well, actually," I smirked, "we don't get a lot of sleep.
Cut the ending. Revise the script. The man of her dreams is a girl.
. . . the man of my dreams is a girl.
Me? I had no dreams. No longings. Dreams only set you up for disappointment. Plus, you had to have a life to have dreams of a better life.
Is that all I am? A friend?" "Of course not," I say. "I love you. " "Am I the only one?" she asks. "Yes. Completely. " First, last, and always.
Your failures and your faults, they stick with you. They glob into ugly, cancerous growths inside you and make you want to die.
No matter what, if you're a parent, you have to make sacrifices.
I'd much prefer to write more quickly.
Today we are at a crossroads. The technology is available for two great options: The massive surveillance state, or the renewed freedom of a deeply-involved citizenry thinking independently and holding the government to the highest standards.
If I get a new idea today—or any day—I won't run from it. I won't trash it. If it's something I really want to do—I'll do it.