…there’s no grand plan. All I know is that I write the books I want to write. All that other stuff is meaningless to me.
I’ve forgotten who I had lunch with earlier, and even more important, where.
Tim glances over at me and I avert my gaze and an imagined sense of imposed peace washes calmly over the two of us, answering my question.
Is evil something you are? Or is it something you do?
But you don’t need anything. You have everything,’ I tell him.
Rip looks at me. ‘No I don’t.’
‘No I don’t.’
There’s a pause and then I ask, ‘Oh, shit, Rip, What don’t you have?’
‘I don’t have anything to loose.
It’s a powerful statement and one that Whitney sings with a grandeur that approaches the sublime. Its universal message crosses all boundaries and instills one with the hope that it’s not too late for us to better ourselves, to act kinder. Since it’s impossible in the world we live in to empathize with others, we can always empathize with ourselves. It’s an important message, crucial really, and it’s beautifully stated in this album.
Around here, ‘tomorrow night’ means anywhere from five days to a month. Jesus,
she is searching for a rational analysis of who I am, which is, of course, an impossibility: there … is … no … key.
I never liked anyone and I’m afraid of people
When we sat down to eat I took inventory of the people in the room, and the remnants of my good mood evaporated when I realized how very little I had in common with them – the career dads, the responsible and diligent moms – and I was soon filled with dread and loneliness. I locked in on the smug feeling of superiority that married couples give off and that permeated the air – the shared assumptions, the sweet and contented apathy, it all lingered everywhere – despite the absence in the room of anyone single at which to aim this.