An Idea Might Spark An Essay, But

I Moved Through The Days Like A Severed Head That Finishes A Sentence.

I Want To Know Everything About You, So I Tell You Everything About Myself.

As Soon As I Knew That I Would Be All Right, I Was Sure That I Was Dead And Didn't Know It. I Moved Through The Days Like A Severed Head That Finishes A Sentence. I Waited For The Moment That Would Snap Me Out Of My Seeming Life.

I'm Not Good At Small Talk; I'm Not Good At Big Talk; And Medium Talk Just Doesn't Come Up.

It Was Like That Class At School Where The Teacher Talks About Realization, About How You Could Realize Something Big In A Commonplace Thing. The Example He Gave--and The Liar Said It Really Happened--was That Once While Drinking Orange Juice, He'd Realized He Would Be Dead Someday. He Wondered If We, His Students, Had Had Similar 'realizations.' Is He Kidding? I Thought. Once I Cashed A Paycheck And I Realized It Wasn't Enough. Once I Had Food Poisoning, And Realized I Was Trapped Inside My Body.