Tuskin

Do not let anyone tell you that you do not matter.  I don't mean this in a patronizing way and I am not trying to give you a pep talk.  I am just stating a fact.  You matter.  Your existence in the universe is incredibly important.  The universe depends on you for its own identity, its very composition.   We tend to remove ourselves from the vastness of our environment.  What can we be when compared to the quasars, the massive intergalactic light houses on the edge of the black, black ocean we call the universe?  If stars were judgmental, what kind of assessment would they make of us?  Tiny little pebbles of carbon, jitterbugging on a ball

"American writers ought to stand and live in the margins, and be more dangerous." — Don DeLillo Art & Death Sometimes I see a documentary or read a biography of a great artist, writer or musician.  I find myself waiting for the inevitable turning point in their lives that sculpt them into something supra-human, icons of the human experience, obelisks that stand unhurt in the intellectual wasteland of popular society.*  The turning point, is of course, always a tragedy—always, always, always.  It breaks them, this shipwreck, this living cancer, and they rebuild themselves as something stronger, more beautiful and meaningful.  But

This place is definitely not friendly to writers. No one will read anything over ten lines long. It's fucking disgusting. There are aquarium fish with longer attention spans than the people on this site. I'm not just bitching because no one comments on my writing, although it is a little bit of that--it's that no one really takes writing or reading seriously anymore. I just looked at the top literature submissions of all time, and guess what? Half of them fucking blow. I'm not kidding. I really anticipated being blown away (and a few of them were very good, don't get me wrong) just like I am whenever I look at the most popular visual deviatio