It Was A Kiss Small In Its

Gemma, You See How It Is. They've Planned Our Entire Lives, From What We Shall Wear To Whom We Shall Marry And Where We Shall Live. It's One Lump Of Sugar In Your Tea Whether You Like It Or Not And You'd Best Smile Even If You're Dying Deep Inside. We're Like Pretty Horses, And Just As On Horses, They Mean To Put Blinders On Us So We Can't Look Left Or Right But Only Straight Ahead Where They Would Lead. Please, Please, Please, Gemma, Let's Not Die Inside Before We Have To.

Greetings, Ax Murderer! I Was Just Wondering How You Like Your Eggs?

I Feel Like I Swallowed A Magritte. Like On The Inside, I'm Made Of Clouds And Floating Eyes, Green Apples, And Slowly Rising Men In Bowler Hats.

You Know What Else Is Hot?" Said A Nameless Blonde As She Put Her Arm Around The One Black Girl. "what?" "bisexuals." "totally. Well, Not Like Real Bisexuals Who Are Just Sort Of Your Everyday People, But, Like, The Kind Of Bisexuals You See In Magazines Wearing Nothing But Body Paint And Kissing Both Boys And Girls To Promote A New Single." "totally, Totally Hot.

In School, They Would Tell You That Life Wouldn’t Come To You; You Had To Go Out And Make It Your Own. But When It Came To Love, The Message For Girls Seemed To Be This: Don’t. Don’t Go After What You Want. Wait. Wait To Be Chosen, As If Only In The Eye Of Another Could One Truly Find Value. The Message Was Confusing And Infuriating. It Was A Shell Game With No Actual Pea Under The Rapidly Moving Cups.