Who wants to know that the person you love and need the most can just vanish forever
I don't know how the heart withstands it.
I'm layering away: sauce, noodles, I belong to you, cheese, sauce, my heart is yours, noodles, cheese, I hear your soul in your music, cheese, cheese, CHEESE.
When people fall in love, they burst into flames.
The guy's life drunk, I think, makes Candide look like a sourpuss. Does he even know that death exists?
I have an impulse to write all over the orange walls- I need an alphabet of endings ripped out of books, of hands pulled off of clocks, of cold stones, of shoes filled with nothing but wind.