I am called Yet I cannot follow I am chastized Yet I cannot obey The fear has kept me well
I killed her. I don’t know why. She made me angry, I guess. But she made me angry every day.
Q: What made you want to write a story about disposing a body? A: Honestly it just started as simple
In the vast beyond Of the ravenous night There’s a floating mirror To reflect moonlight As she rises above To
It’s sad the lives we lead. I mean, truly. What the hell do we think we’re doing anyway? Putzing around,
Wow, I just found this gem of confusion. Fortunately, I still remember what all of it means. You, poor reader,
I really don’t feel like writing today. I’m not really sure what the issue is… I’m just bleh about the