Cause I Lit Him On Fire,” I

I Was Always Depressed Growing Up. There Wasnt A Reason For It, I Just Was. I Was Sad And Morose. I Cried A Lot, I Wrote A Lot, And I Read A Lot; And That Was How I Dealt With It.

He Hadn’t Been Peeping Intentionally; He’d Been Trying To Sneak Into My Room. So That Was Slightly Less Creepy, I Supposed.

And I Have Two Eyes. I’ve Seen That Little Melodrama Play Out Between You And That Other Tracker. Fish? Flounder? What’s His Name?

Well,i Hope You Like The Ring." He Held It Out To Me, He Velvet Lid Still Closed. "my Mom Hates It." "i'm Sure I'll Love It,then," I Said, And He Laughed.

I've Always Kind Of Wrote When I Wanted To. Once I Get The Idea In My Head And Get It Outlined Out, I Usually Just Sit And Write Until It's Done.