synopsis
of a work in progress
 a garden of lilacs under a sheet of ice

on intensity
or, "Either shoot to kill, or sell the fucking gun!"
Sunday 12 January 2003

Life has no inherent meaning or purpose, only what we give it.

So tell me.

What are you living for?

why
are you
here.

I don't have time for people who don't care enough to want to answer those questions. I surround myself with people who have passion, purpose and love of what they do. My inspiration, my very will to go on comes from the company I keep. They are too valuable to me waste time with those who give half hearted effort or never manage to make up their minds.

If you're not doing it all the way, then what are you doing it for at all?

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