Ack! Parables. I Hate Parables.

I Fear You May Become A Lonely Man, Even In The Company Of Others.

For A While He'd Tried Molding Himself Into The Tragic Romantic Hero, Brooding And Staring Clench-jawed Off Into Space As He Composed Dark Verse In His Head. But It Turned Out That Trying To Appear Tragic In Incontinence, Indiana, Was Redundant, And His Mother Kept Shouting At Him And Making Him Forget His Rhymes. "tommy, If You Keep Grinding Your Teeth Like That, They'll Wear Away And You'll Have To Have Dentures Like Aunt Ester." Tommy Only Wished His Beard Was As Heavy As Aunt Ester's---then He Could Stare Out Over The Moors While He Stroked It Pensively.

If You Like What You're Reading, I Probably Wrote It.

People Always Stay The Age That They Died At. My Big Brother Died Of Leukemia When I Was Six. He Was Eight. Now When I Think Of Him, He's Always Eight, And He's Still My Big Brother. He Never Changes, And The Part Of Me That Remembers Him Never Changes.

Like Last Year I Took Advance Foods Class (which Is Like Cooking For Nerds) After Lunch, And So I Usually Took A Nap. Which Was Fine, Because I'm Not Even Thrilled About Regular Foods, So, You Know, What Do I Need With Like Advanced Digital Hd Wi-fi Foods And Whatnot? -abby