I Like To Dissect Girls. Did You

I Really Believe That Readers Are Smart And Sophisticated Enough To Realize That The Author Is Not The Narrator Of His Novels.

No One Is Drawn To Writing About Being Happy Or Feelings Of Joy.

Look How Black The Sky Is, The Writer Said. I Made It That Way.

He Was Simply Someone Who Floated Through Our Lives And Didn't Seem To Care How Flatly He Perceived Everyone Or That He'd Shared Our Secret Failures With The World, Showcasing The Youthful Indifference, The Gleaming Nihilism, Glamorizing The Horror Of It All.

I Want To Moan And Writhe With You And I Want To Go Up To You And Kiss Your Mouth And Pull You To Me And Say "i Love You I Love You I Love You" While Stripping. I Want You So Bad It Stings.