I Wonder What It's Like To Live

It’s Seemed More Like A Punishment Than A Reward Most Days…” He Said, His Tone One Of Bitter Resignation. Then His Gaze Lifted To Meet Mine, And His Voice Changed. “…at Least Until I Found You.

And I Like A Good Horror Story As Much As The Next Person So Long As They Kill Off Some Men Too And Not Just Girls. But The Voices Joan Heard Were Real. There’s Clear And Substantiated Proof They Were Real.

It’s My Own Fault, Really. For Believing In Fairy Tales. Not That I Ever Mistook Them For Actual Historical Fact, Or Anything. But I Did Grow Up Believing That For Every Girl, There’s A Prince Out There Somewhere. All She Has To Do Is Find Him. Then It’s On With The Happily Ever After. So You Can Only Imagine What Happened When I Found Out. That My Prince Really Is One. A Prince. No, I Really Mean It. He’s An Actual Prince.

Michael Has Never Cried During A Broadway Show. Except In That Scene Where Tarzan's Ape Father Is Brutally Murdered. And That Was Only Because He Was Laughing So Hard.

However, Because They Have No Actual Interests Of Their Own (or If They Do, They Squelch Them In Order To Fit In) And Merely Pursue Those That They Think Will Look Best On Their College Apps, They're Zombies.