Everything is still falling apart.

Things that came apart could be put together again, but never exactly the same.

Sometimes when things are falling apart they may actually be falling into place.

If you take my stuff apart, you'll find my choruses of repetitions are picked up almost verbatim from Kurt Vonnegut, and my distanced fracture quality is all from Amy Hempel, who's probably my favourite writer.

I was like a clock that had exploded- my springs were hanging out, my hands were cockeyed, and my numbers were falling off.

I felt like I was falling apart.