I don't pretend to know anything. I can imagine things that, in some ways, are better than real life or at least different. Other than that, I'm a pretty dumb person.

Humor is important though. Sandy's skid marks are pretty funny as is the plausibility of them being a way to reconnect with her mom.

Total BS. Real life is either incredibly boring or jaw-droppingly amazing. It only makes sense to the one who lived it. Outsiders looking in can only dream of how they felt at that point or what affect some seemingly random encounter had on them.

It has to be a lens through which we realize something else. Some other part that has to be there but can't be seen easily. I wonder how much our own personal desires make that lens show something false?

All the best stories have been about forgotten dreams.


Isn't life just a series of them?