I'm tired of all this nonsense about beauty being skin deep. That's deep enough. What do you want, an adorable pancreas?
There is this strange fog of being a young man that I would refer to as soft time. Time does not go forward there. It's a series of doors that kind of wind back into one another, like a series of doors in the upper floor of a house. You revisit the same lessons over and over again, or you choose to

