I Had A Friend Who Said, "you

What Hamlet Suffers From Is A Lack Of Zombies. Let Us Say Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Show Up—ho-ho! Now You’ve Got Something That Stirs The, Um, Something That Stirs Things That Are Stirrable. Boom! A Pack Of Ravenous Flesh-eaters Breaks Open Their Heads And Sucks Out Their Eyeballs. No Need For Iambic Pentameter Because They Are Grunting, Groaning Annihilators Of Humanity With No Time For Meter. You’re Not Asleep In The Back Of English Class Anymore, Are You? This Is What I’m Talking About. Zombies. Learn It, Live It, Love It.

It's As If I've Inherited A Skin I Cannot Quite Fit, And So I Walk About Constantly Pulling And And Tugging, Pinning And Pruning, Trying Desperately To Fill It Out, Hoping That No One Will Look At Me Struggling And Say, 'that One There- She's A Fraud, Look How She Doesn't Fit At All.

It's Always Darkest Before The Ultimate Sparkle.

Might. Is There Any Opiate More Powerful Than That Word?

As One, They Leap, Laughing, And That Is Where We Leave Them - Mouths Open, Arms Spread Wide, Fingers Splayed To Take In The Whole World, Bodies Flying High In Defiance Of Gravity, As If They Will Never Fall.