When Surprised And Excited And Innocent Gus

I Still Think That Maybe The "afterlife" Is Just Something We Made Up To Ease The Pain Of Loss, To Make Our Time In The Labyrinth Bearable. Maybe We Are Just Matter, And Matter Gets Recycled

I Didn’t Need You, You Idiot. I Picked You. And Then You Picked Me Back.

I Kept Waiting For That Loneliness And Nervousness To Make Me Want To Go Back. But It Never Did.

She’s The Kind Of Person Who Either Dies Tragically At Twenty-seven, Like Jimi Hendrix And Janis Joplin, Or Else Grows Up To Win, Like, The First-ever Nobel Prize For Awesome.

March 4th, The Only Day That Is Also A Sentence