All the shitty stuff people do to themselves... it can all be the same thing, you know? Just a way to drown out your own voice. To kill your memories without having to kill yourself.

Is this muteness a real physical handicap? One of the many symptoms of being Dead?Or do we just have nothing left to say?

We're fumbling in the dark, but at least we're in motion.

I sigh inside, so exhausted by these ugly questions, but when did a monster ever deserve its privacy?

I can feel it... the chance to start over, to live right, to love right, to burn up in a fiery cloud and never again be buried in the mud.

The past is made out of facts...I guess the future is just hope.

What a massive responsibility, being a moral creature