Writing isn't letters on paper. It's communication. It's memory.

We will cry and bleed and lust and love, and we will cure death. We will be the cure. Because we want it.

Are my words ever actually audible, or do they just echo in my head while people stare at me, waiting?

God has made us study partner. We need to talk about our project.

There’s not really such thing as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ people, there’s just like…humanity. And it gets broken sometimes.

I don't know... there's something kind of beautiful about it, don't you think? That we keep living and growing even though our world is a corpse? That we keep coming back no matter how many of us die?

When the entire world is built on death and horror, when existence is a constant state of panic, it's hard to get worked up about any one thing. Specific fears have become irrelevant. We've replace them with a smothering blanket far worse.