I Feel Like It's Hard To Get

Image Of A Girl Holding A Blaster To A Twin’s Temple. “remember, Bi***. You Can’t Spell ‘danger’ Without Dna.” Blam.

It’s The End. It’s The End Of The Civilization. We’re Going Down. No, It’s Sure Not Too Attractive. Lenticels. I Just Hope My Kids Don’t Live To See The Last Days. The Things Burning And People Living In Cellars. Violet. The Only Thing Worse Than The Thought It May All Come Tumbling Down Is The Thought That We May Go On Like This Forever.

Occasionally People Ask Me How It Is I Write Different Types Of Things, And My Answer To That Is It's Very Natural. You Get Bored Writing One Kind Of Thing All The Time.

Perhaps His Gloom Was Due To His Profession, That He Lived Among Fallen Empires, And In Reading These Languages That Had Not Been Spoken By The Common Man In Centuries, He Had All About Him The Ruin Of Language, Evidence Of Toppled Suburbs, Grass Growing Among The Mosaics, And Voices That Had Been Choked With Poison, Iron, Age, Or Ash.

At Long Last, You May No Longer Distinguish What Binds You From What Is You.