Since I Am Not Actually A Real

I Waved To Everybody. Some Of Them Even Waved Back. They Knew Me, Had Seen Me Go By Before, Always Cheerful, A Big Hello For Everybody. He Was Such A Nice Man. Very Friendly. I Can’t Believe He Did Those Horrible Things . . .

In Its Own Way The Kiss Had Been An Act Of Murder.

What A Terrible Thing Life Can Be.

In My Lifelong Study Of Human Beings, I Have Found That No Matter How Hard They Might Try, They Have Found No Way Yet To Prevent The Arrival Of Monday Morning. And They Do Try, Of Course, But Monday Always Comes, And All The Drones Have To Scuttle Back To Their Dreary Workaday Lives Of Meaningless Toil And Suffering.

Why Bother Inflicting Enormous Pain On Yourself When Sooner Or Later Life Would Certainly Get Around To Doing It For You?