Losing My Religion
Unbelievers Must Die
The night after watching the Apollo 11 moon landing, I snuck out of the house to look at the fat crescent of the moon high in the sky and thought, ‘There are people up there!’
I didn’t know it then but—at the age of five—I had just lost my religion.
If you are not in, or aspiring to be in writing as a profession, think carefully before you open your mouth around me to tell me how to write.
If it’s going to be negative, shut the fuck up. You will regret ignoring this friendly warning, believe me.