Life Is An Irritation.

Tommy Had Felt Alone In A Crowd Before, Even Inferior To Everyone In A Crowd, But Now He Felt, Well, Different. It Wasn't Just The Clothes And The Make Up, It Was The Humanity. He Wasn't Part Of It. Heightened Senses Or Not, He Felt Like He Had His Nose Pressed Against The Window, Looking In. The Problem Was, It Was The Window Of A Donut Shop.

Life Is Messy. Would That Every Puzzle Piece Fell Into Place, Every Word Was Kind, Every Accident Happy, But Such Is Not The Case. Life Is Messy

How Could You Deal With A Creature As Devious As Woman.

Little-boy Love...the Cleanest Pain I've Ever Known. Love Without Desire, Conditions, Or Limits - A Pure And Radiant Glow In The Heart That Could Make Me Giddy And Sad And Glorious All At Once. Where Does It Go? Why, In All Their Experiments, Did The Magi Never Try To Capture That Purity In A Bottle? Perhaps They Couldn't.

I Think There Was Always Some Scrawny Dreamer Sitting At The Edge Of The Firelight, Who Had The Ability To Imagine Dangers, To Look Into The Future In His Imagination And See Possibilities, And Therefore Survived To Pass His Genes On To The Next Generation.