But I'm Crazy. I Swear To God

I Thought What I'd Do Was I'd Pretend I Was One Of Those Deaf-mutes.

Her Joke Of A Name Aside, Her General Unprettiness Aside, She Was, In Terms Of Permanently Memorable, Immoderately Perceptive, Small-area Faces, A Stunning And Final Girl.

I Could Happily Lie Down And Die Sometimes.

I Have Scars On My Hands From Touching Certain People…certain Heads, Certain Colours And Textures Of Human Hair Leave Permanent Marks On Me.

And I Can't Be Running Back And Fourth Forever Between Grief And High Delight.