I Can't Be You. You Can't Be

"and We'll Call You... Hmmm. Pudge." "huh?" "pudge," The Colonel Said. "because You're Skinny. It's Called Irony, Pudge. Heard Of It? Now, Let's Go Get Some Cigarettes And Start This Year Off Right."

The Dead Are Visible Only In The Terrible Lidless Eye Of Memory.

I Write About Broken People Who Need Other People In Order To Go On. But Those Are The Only Kind Of People I Know To Exist. We Are All Broken.

We Had To Forgive To Survive The Labyrinth

At Least I Carpe'd That One Diem.