Me, Feeling. What A Concept.

I Had Killed Our Careful Relationship By Driving My Tongue Through Its Heart And Pushing It Off A Cliff.

Nothing Else Loves Me, Or Ever Will. Not Even - Especially - Me. I Know What I Am And That Is Not A Thing To Love.

And Here I Always Thought Morality Was Useless.

Rectory Always Sounded To Me Like A Place Where You Would Find A Proctologist.

The Faster It Ran Away From Me. And I Found Myself Reasoning That Perhaps One More Beer Would Unlock The Doors Of Perception.