Why is it beautiful that humanity keeps coming back? So does herpes.

Nothing is permanent. Not even the end of the world.

I crush her against me. I want to be part of her. Not just inside her but all around her. I want our rib cages to crack open and our hearts to migrate and merge. I want our cells to braid together like living thread.

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... ?"

Every experience, good or bad, is a priceless collector's item.

I want a new past,new memories, a new first handshake with love. I want to start over in every possible way.

My friend "M" says the irony of being a zombie is that everything is funny, but you can't smile, because your lips have rotted off.