Freak The Ferocious Out.

People Don’t Realize How Easy Life Is To Change. You Just Get On The Bus.

Some People, Every Now And Then, Simply Had To Have One Too Many, Go Drifty Voiced And Slouch Mouthed, Swimming Willfully Around In Their Own Sadness As If It Were Hot Springs.

Life Had Been A Suit I'd Only Put On For Special Occasions. Most Of The Time I Kept It In The Back Of My Closet, Forgetting It Was There. We Were Meant To Die When It Was Barely Stitched Anymore, When The Elbows And Knees Were Stained With Grass And Mud, Shoulder Pads Uneven From People Hugging You All The Time, Downpours And Blistering Sun, The Fabric Faded, Buttons Gone.

Sadly, American Teenagers Are To A Weightless Vacuum As Seat Cushions Are To Polyurethane Foam -

Those Around You Can Have Their Novellas, Sweet, Their Short Stories Of Cliché And Coincidence, Occasionally Spiced Up With Tricks Of The Quirky, The Achingly Mundane, The Grotesque. A Few Will Even Cook Up Greek Tragedy, Those Born Into Misery, Destined To Die In Misery. But You, My Bride Of Quietness, You Will Craft Nothing Less Than Epic With Your Life. Out Of All Of Them, Your Story Will Be The One To Last.