If I were flying, I would travel to a perfect place. A place with frosted cakes and beautiful flowers and excellent trees to climb and absolutely no doldrums.

How do you survive the survivor?

It occurs to me that if I don’t sort myself out soon I will die of meaninglessness. That is the price of avoiding the things I find troubling.

I am reminded of yet one more reason why I avoid children, why I have remained intentionally childless. Children make ruthless biographers and terrifying judges.