I Want Life And In All Its

There’s Not Really Such Thing As ‘good’ Or ‘bad’ People, There’s Just Like…humanity. And It Gets Broken Sometimes.

I Can’t Seem To Make Myself Care About Anything To The Right Or Left Of The Present.

I Wince At Her Use Of The Word "human." I've Never Liked That Differentiation. She Is Living And I'm Dead, But We're Both Human. Call Me An Idealist.

Here We Are On The Road. We Must Be Going Somewhere.

I Feel An Unfamiliar But Pleasant Sensation In My Lips, Tugging Them Upward. This Is... New.