If there are rules, we're the ones making them. We can change them whenever we want to.

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

Every time I go to sleep, I know I may never wake up. How could anyone expect to? You drop your tiny, helpless mind into a bottomless well, crossing your fingers and hoping when you pull it out on its flimsy fishing wire it hasn't been gnawed to bones by nameless beasts below.

Peel off these dusty wool blankets of apathy and antipathy and cynical desiccation. I want life in all its stupid sticky rawness.

I adapt to things quickly, including good things, which I wish I could shut off sometimes.

The shadows of the room pool in the lines of our faces, draining our eyes of hue. "There's nothing left worth saying.

Soft flesh is eaten by hard teeth.