My Pleasures Disappeared With My Vices.

If You Want Something Badly Enough, You Make Arrangements. If You Don't Want It Badly Enough, You Make Excuses.

If Jealousy Was The Vindaloo Of Love, I'd Imagined Her Tongue Burning, And Such A Fire Forcing Her To Spill Her Truth.

I'm Always Writing. I'm An Obsessive. It's Not Because I'm A Disciplined Person. It's Because I'm Crazy About It.

I've Never Had Any Desire To Be Good. I Don't Like Goodness Particularly.

My Guess Is That She Is Uncomfortable In Such An Intransigent World But Is Unable To Live Accordingly To Her Own Desire.