Sovereign. Deadly. Perfect.

When You Grow Up--and From The Look Of Things, You Have Awhile--but You Learn Things Never Go Back To Normal Simply Because Everyone's Sorry. Sorry Is Ridiculous.

Such Things As Anguish, Woe, Affliction, Guilt, Feelings Of Awfulness, And Utter Wretchedness, The Bread And Butter Of Days Of Yore And Russians, Sadly Have Very Little Staying Power In These Lickety-split Modern Times.

Occasionally When I'm Procrastinating Writing, I'll While Away The Hours On Itunes. You Can Just Keep Going Forever And Find These Bands You'd Never Normally Hear Of.

It Felt As If We'd Been To War Together. Deep In A Jungle, Alone, I Had Relied On Them, These Strangers. They'd Held Me Up In Ways Only People Could. When It Was Over, An Ending Never Felt Like An Ending, Only An Exhausted Draw, We Went Our Separate Ways. Be We Were Bonded Forever By The History Of It, The Simple Fact They'd Seen The Raw Side Of Me And Me Of Them, A Side No One, Not Even Closest Friends Or Family Had Ever Seen Before, Or Probably Ever Would.

I Was Aware Too How Strange Adults Were, How Theirs Lives Were Vaster Than They Wanted Anyone To Realize, That They Actually Stretched On And On Like Deserts, Dry And Desolate, With An Unpredictable, Shifting Sea Of Dunes.