You tell yourself that noise is what defines silence. Without noise, silence would not be golden. Noise is the exception.

Just for the record, the weather today is increasing turmoil with a possible physical and emotional breakdown.

You can't base your life on the past or the present. You have to tell me about your future.

Today is the sort of day where the sun only comes up to humiliate you.

Her voice makes me think of her mouth makes me think of her breath makes me think of her breasts.

Every stage of life has its own form of power, and we're always sort of terrified as to whether we can make the jump to the next form of power.

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.