And He Hated Himself And Hated Her,too,

Everyone Sees Different Things.

Happiness Doesn't Lie In Conspicuous Consumption And The Relentless Amassing Of Useless Crap. Happiness Lies In The Person Sitting Beside You And Your Ability To Talk To Them. Happiness Is Clear-headed Human Interaction And Empathy. Happiness Is Home. And Home Is Not A House-home Is A Mythological Conceit. It Is A State Of Mind. A Place Of Communion And Unconditional Love. It Is Where, When You Cross Its Threshold, You Finally Feel At Peace.

He Wanted To Ask Her What Sound A Heart Made When It Broke From Pleasure, When Just The Sight Of Someone Filled You The Way Food, Blood, And Air Never Could, When You Felt As If You'd Been Born For Only One Moment And This, For Whatever Reason, Was It.

A Pretty Face Had Been Damaged By Acne Scars And She Wore And Extra Forty Pounds On Her Frame Like A Threat. Her Eyes Were Dull With Anger Disguised As Apathy. If She Kept On Her Current Path, She'd Grow Into The Type Of Person Who Fed Her Kids Doritos For Breakfast And Purchased Angry Bumper Stickers With Lots Of Exclamation Points. But Right Now, She Was Just Another In A Long Line Of Pissed-off Small-town Girls With A Shitty Outlook.

The World According To Bubba Is Simple - If It Aggravates You, Stop It. By Whatever Means Necessary.