The Sound Of The Radio Fades To

I Want To Make Sure That The First Person You Kiss Loves You, Okay?

So, I Looked Up, And We Were In This Giant Dome Like A Glass Snowball, And Mark Said That The Amazing White Stars Were Really Only Holes In The Black Glass Of The Dome, And When You Went To Heaven, The Glass Broke Away, And There Was Nothing But A Whole Sheet Of Star White, Which Is Brighter Than Anything But Doesn't Hurt Your Eyes. It Was Vast And Open And Thinly Quiet, And I Felt So Small.

I Really Think That Everyone Should Have Watercolors, Magnetic Poetry, And A Harmonica.

Sam And Patrick Looked At Me. And I Looked At Them. And I Think They Knew. Not Anything Specific Really. They Just Knew. And I Think That's All You Can Ever Ask From A Friend.

I Sat Down And Tried To Write A Story. "ian Macarthur Is A Wonderful Sweet Fellow Who Wears Glasses And Peers Out Of Them With Delight." That Was The First Sentence. The Problem Was That I Just Couldn't Think Of The Next One. After Cleaning My Room Three Times, I Decided To Leave Ian Alone For A While Because I Was Starting To Get Mad At Him.