The Past Is Made Out Of Facts...i

I'm Not A General Or A Colonel Or A Builder Of Cities. I'm Just A Corpse Who Wants Not To Be.

What's Wrong With People?" She Says, Almost Too Quiet For Me To Hear. "were They Born With Parts Missing Or Did It Fall Out Somewhere Along The Way?

There Is A Chasm Between Me And The World Outside Of Me. A Gap So Wide My Feelings Can't Cross It. By The Time My Screams Reach The Other Side, They Have Dwindled Into Groans.

I Adapt To Things Quickly, Including Good Things, Which I Wish I Could Shut Off Sometimes. My Friends Have To Keep Reminding Me How Crazy My Life Has Become, And Then It Hits Me Fresh And I Just Slap My Forehead And Think, "wait, What... ?"

I've Always Been Interested In Writing From The Perspective Of An Outsider.