So much wanting and longing, clutching, desiring, passion and hatred and terrible need. Here, death was suitable, there was room for it, the grip of life's relentless urges slackened, replaced by this icy simplicity. This wasnt her death. It was his. That was the sad and honest truth. Though it would stay with her, it would be more like a black onyx heart on a silver chain, worn privately, under her clothes, close to her body, all her life. The guilt, the beauty, everything. It wasnt over, it had only begun. Well ok then, Okay.

Inside every human being, there is unlimited time and space.

I tried writing fiction as a little kid, but had a teacher humiliate me, so didn't write again until I was a senior in college.

here, here is my dark world. you carry it for a change. im out

But I knew one more thing. That people w ho denied who they were or where they had been were in the greatest danger.

She would buy magic every day of the week. Love me, that face said. I'm so lonely, so desperate. I'll give you whatever you want.

My hatred gives me strength.