Daughter-girl gets one piece of paper after another, writes a big H on each one, screws them up, starts again.
Me: What are you doing?
Daughter: Designing my poster for my hallowe’en party.
Me: You do realise that it’s two months away …
Daughter: Ssh … you’re distracting me.
We feel sorry for young people. It must be tough for them. We all aspire to be old, when respect is visited upon us.
Sleep is a human right afforded to nearly everyone in our era. Much like food in your era.
We freed ourselves from the burden of news. We do not know anything about anything except our own business.
People always know how other people feel about them. Always.
The queer love need not be sexual or romantic. It transcends. Transcend with me. Everything is possible.
Fascination happens in the curious exchange of a few cryptic words.