I am not nearly as good of a writer as you think I am. I lash together pretty words into rafts that dissolve in open sea. This work will not be good forever. Every sentence has a breaking point, every metaphor frayed along the edges and begging for someone to unravel it. It always seems like I have a lot to say but I never actually get around to saying it. I am not a novel. I am a dictionary full of empty promises and beginnings that never meet their maker.