Goodbye. Thanks For Your Help... I... I'll

Is Hopper Celebrating With You?” “hopper? Why Would—” My Mouth Snapped Shut For A Few Moments. “oh. I, Uh, Kind Of Forgot About Him.

Once When I Was Ninth Grade I Had To Write A Paper On A Poem. One Of The Lines Was"if Your Eyes Weren't Open You Wouldn't Know The Difference Between Dreaming And Waking' It Hadn't Meant Meant Much To Me At The Time. After All There'd Been A Guy In The Class That I Liked So How Could I Be Expected To Pay Attention To Literary Analysis? Now Three Year Later I Understand The Poem Perfectly.

My Muse Is An Ungrateful Harlot Who’s Abandoned Me To Actually Come Up With My Own Plots.

You’re Presumptuous And Arrogant And A Whole Lot Of Other Things If You Think I’ve Changed My Mind.” “you See, That’s Just It.” There He Was Again, Moving Into My Space. “i Think You Like The ‘other Things.

You Can't Save Everyone, Though God Knows You Try.