Enemies can't break your spirit, only friends can.

Who can know from the word goodbye what kind of parting is in store for us.

Even in the most uneventful of our lives, we are called upon to choose our battles...

Still the Amaltas bloomed, a brilliant, defiant yellow. Each blazing summer it reached up and whispered to the hot brown sky, Fuck You.

Fiction and non-fiction are only different techniques of story telling. For reasons I do not fully understand, fiction dances out of me. Non-fiction is wrenched out by the aching, broken world I wake up to every morning.