Since I Am Not Actually A Real

Weren't We All Crazy In Our Sleep? What Was Sleep, After All, But The Process By Which We Dumped Our Insanity Into A Dark Subconscious Pit And Came Out On The Other Side Ready To Eat Cereal Instead Of Our Neighbor's Children?

They Like To Tell Us That It Is Important To Speak The Truth, But It Has Been My Experience That Real Happiness Lies In Having People Tell You What You Want To Believe, Usually Not The Same Thing At All, And If You Have To Stub Your Toe On The Truth Later, So Be It.

She Really Did Like Me, The Idiot.

And So As Much As I Can, I Care About Her, Dear Deborah. It's Probably Not Love, But I Would Rather She Were Happy.

There Is A Simple, Logical Explanation,' I Said To Myself. And Because You Never Know Who Else Is Listening, I Added, 'and There Is Nothing Under The Bed.'" --dexter