She Wanted Us To Have More Than

Faction Before Blood.

I Can’t Answer Either Question. But The Look She Gives Me Reminds Me Of The Look In The Attack Dog’s Eyes In The Aptitude Test – A Vicious, Predatory Stare. She Wants To Rip Me To Pieces. I Can’t Lie Down In Submission Now. I Have Become An Attack Dog Too.

I Also Don't Believe That Whatever Come After Life Depends On My Correctly Reciting A List Of My Transgressions-that Sounds Too Much Like An Erudite Afterlife To Me, All Accuracy And No Feeling.

Can I Be Forgiven For All I've Done To Get Here? I Want To Be. I Can. I Believe It.

Dead People Can Be Our Heroes Because They Can't Disappoint Us Later; They Only Improve Over Time, As We Forget More And More About Them.