... The Pessimist ... “I see now that the story isn’t about us; it’s about what it means to bother to know someone, which is ...
Dreams. We've all had one. This is mine. Nothing more.
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" I write as a function, without it I would fall ill and die. It's as much a part of me as the liver or ...
I have killed every God that touched me but the sunshine (www.thepeopleandthemess.wordpress.com)
Wield them proud for they are your own. Words are yours to cast in stone. Unsheathe them with reason and rhyme. Reveal them so they ...
Move with me. Welcome to my confessions.
— The End —