Rumors Are Spread By Jealous People

Revision Means Throwing Out The Boring Crap And Making What’s Left Sound Natural.

The Stars Whirled Above Us And The Firecrackers Blazed. The Moon Stood Watch As Drops Of Blood Fell, Careless Seeds That Sizzled In The Snow.

I Am A Gluttonous, Gorging Failure. A Waste. My Body Isn’t Used To High-sugar Carbs Laced With Witchcraft. It Can Barely Cope With Soup And Crackers.

I Would Never Be Popular. I Didn't Want To Be; I Liked Being Shy. I'd Never Be The Smartest Or The Hottest Or The Happiest. By Eighth Grade You Start To Figure Out Your Limits.

I Believe That You've Created A Metaphorical Universe In Which You Can Express Your Darkest Fears. In One Aspect, Yes, I Believe In Ghosts, But We Create Them. We Haunt Ourselves, And Sometimes We Do Such A Good Job, We Lose Track Of Reality.