In Each Of Us Lie Good And

You Are Working Up To Mr. Fantastic Fiction Levels Of Zombie Expert, Which Is Like Playing Guitar Hero On Some Level That Actually Melts The Guitar Controller, Burning Your Fingers With Searing Hot Plastic Till You Scream In Pain. Only With Words. And Zombies.

The Sun Has Blessed You," Sarita Used To Say. "look How He Has Left His Kisses On Your Face For All To See And Be Jealous." "the Sun Loves You More," I Said, Rubbing My Hands Over Her Dry Arms, The Color Of An Aged Wine Gourd, And She Laughed. But This Is Not India And We Are Not Prized For Our Freckles Here. The Sun Is Not Allowed To Show His Love.

What Makes A Girl A Girl? What Makes A Guy A Guy? Do You Have To Be What They Want You To Be? Or Do You Stop And Listen To That Voice Inside You? I Know Who I Am. I'm Petra West. And I'm A Girl. You Want Me To Sleep Somewhere Else, Fine. Whatever. But I'm Not Going To Pretend To Be Somebody I'm Not. I've Done Enough Of That.

Life Don’t Come To You, Memphis. You Gotta Take It. We Have To Take It. Because Ain’t Nobody Handing It To Us.

The World Is A Lie...not You And Me.