Memory loss sucks because you lose the good memories too.
I always thought, if I could forget who I was, my life would become better.
Becoming a fantasy writer came from my need to live in another world—a perfect one.
When I climb buildings of ambition, it doesn’t make me feel accomplished. It only gives me a dizzy feeling.
I have continued to write for many reasons: to pass the time, to make sense of reality, to laugh at my problems, to live on luck, to have fame, so that I can reject the world.
I have ambition, but it’s strange to fail for so long. I must be a madman.
If writing was hard work, I would’ve stopped, so writing must be easy, like thinking peaceful thoughts.
Living can be as easy as breathing, but people are trying to find a reason to live.
I’m horrified by how people spend their time–they do it with such ambition.
If I had to talk to 1,000 customers a day, I would go crazy, so I write instead, and people call me crazy.
All the ways I might make money seem useless, except making a living with my thoughts.
So, I take the time to think,
to spin my philosophy like a spider’s web,
and maybe, I’ll catch some readers.
Poetry King 