Greetings, Ax Murderer! I Was Just Wondering

I've Never Been In Love. I Will Die Without Knowing What It Feels Like To Need To See One Person's Face When You Go To Sleep At Night, To Crave Seeing It When You Wake Up. I Wish I Knew.

The Hand You Hold The Longest Is Your Own.

I Told Myself It Was The Snow—she Couldn’t Possibly Get To Philadelphia On The Roads. I Told Myself A Hundred Lies. Children Do That. It’s Amazing The Sorts Of Things You’ll Make Yourself Believe.

We Create The Illusions We Need To Go On. And One Day, When They No Longer Dazzle Or Comfort, We Tear Them Down, Brick By Glittering Brick, Until We Are Left With Nothing But The Bright Light Of Honesty. The Light Is Liberating. Necessary. Terrifying. We Stand Naked And Emptied Before It. And When It Is Too Much For Our Eyes To Take, We Build A New Illusion To Shield Us From Its Relentless Truth.

He Wanted To Hit Something Or Someone. He Wanted To Burn Up The Whole World, Heal It, And Burn It Down Again.