But I think humans are innately religious as a species, so you don't need a specific excuse for examining the perversely unholy.

His body and his mind went about their different businesses. The former, freed from conscious instruction, breathed, rolled, sweated, and digested. The latter went dreaming.

being with people makes me vomit. I don't like em. I never did.

Nothing else wounds so deeply and irreparably. Nothing else robs us of hope so much as being unloved by one we love

A monster lies in wait in me,a stew of wounds and misery.But fiercer still in life and limb,the me that lies in wait in him

Superman is, after all, an alien life form. He is simply the acceptable face of invading realities.

Behind their eyes the hope was sickening and in many, dead. They lived from event to event with a subtle terror of the gap between, filling up their lives with distractions to avoid the emptiness where curiosity should have been.