You Are In My Blood. I Cant

The Most Beautiful People Are The Ones That Don't Look Like One Race Or Even One Sex.

Sometimes A Wild Horse Needs To Feel That His Rider Is Just A Little Bit Wilder.

Same Old Boring Boring Story America Can’t Stop Telling Itself. What Is This Sicko Fascination? Every Book And Movie Practically Has To Have A Little, Right? But Why Do You Think All Those Runaways Are On The Streets Tearing Up Their Veins With Junk And Selling Themselves So They Can Sleep In The Gutter? What Do You Think The Alternative Was At Home?

In Order To Have Bliss You Have To Be Able To Accept All The Parts Of The Other, All The Wildness And The Darkness. You Have To Be Able To Hold On.

It Was Like When We Were Little Kids And We Played Games On The Ivy-covered Hillside In The Backyard. We Were Warriors And Wizards And Angels And High Elves And That Was Our Reality. If Someone Said, Isn’t It Cute, Look At Them Playing, We Would Have Smiled Back, Humoring Them, But It Wasn’t Playing. It Was Transformation. It Was Our Own World. Our Own Rules.