Yes," I Say. "three Of These Flying

Maybe It's A Little Depressing To Think That My Vision Of A Perfect World Is Actually So Messed Up, But I Think It Means That I Don't Really Understand What 'perfect' Is.

Little Girl, He Called Me. A Little Girl Who Is Stressed Out To The Point Of Paranoia. That Is Not Me, But Now, It's Who The Candor Think I Am.

And Then The Screaming Begins.

I Want People To Come Away From My Book With Questions. Questions About Virtue And Goodness. Not Answers.

It Isn't The Height That Scares Me - The Height Makes Me Feel Alive With Energy, Every Organ And Vessel And Muscle In My Body Singing At The Same Pitch. Then I Realize What It Is. It's Him. Something About Him Makes Me Feel Like I Am About To Fall. Or Turn To Liquid. Or Burst Into Flames.