Love is for children and dimwads.

The truth is, I don't have a real clue what love is - how to find it, how to give it. Once upon a time I thought I knew.

Because to tell you the truth, most of the time dying seems pretty much like my only means of escape

Think of how they must have loved when all they had was each other.

So you want to know all about me. Who I am. What chance meeting of brush and canvas painted the face you see? What made me despise the girl in the mirror enough to transform her,turn her to into a stranger, only not. So you want to hear the whole story. Why I swerved off the high road, hard left to nowhere, recklessly indifferent to those coughing my dust, picked up speed no limits,no top end, just a high velocity rush to madness.

Yeah, I know getting high isn't so smart. Ask me if I care.

I tattered their wings and tore off their legs, joint by joint, watched them crawl in circles, like little lost infants, untill they decide to die.