Some Stories, You Use Up. Others Use

A Moment Is All You Can Expect From Perfection.

I Am Jack's Complete Lack Of Surprise. I Am Jack's Broken Heart.

You Cannot Be The Person They Know And The Great, Glorious Person You Want To Become. Not At The Same Time.

Crying Is Right At Hand In The Smothering Dark, Closed Inside Someone Else, When You See How Everything You Can Ever Accomplish Will End Up As Trash.

In The Big Factory Of Perfecting Human Souls, The Earth Was Kind Of Tumbler. The Sale As The Kind People Use To Polish Rocks. All Souls Come Here To Rub The Sharp Edges Off Each Other. This Isn't Suffering. It's Erosion.