This is one of my favorite things about the Underground: the crashing of the cymbals, the screeching guitar riffs, music that moves into the blood and makes you feel hot and wild and alive.

This is the strange way of the world, that people who simply want to love are instead forced to become warriors.

Somewhere in the endless spinning of eternity that one, tiny, fraction of a second where our lips met is lost forever.

And I guess that's when it starts to hit me: the whole point is, you do what you can.

Nothing exists but him.

that's what it was like waking up in the crypts. no-longer-dead. but without her. like burning alive.

Most of the time-- 99 percent of the time-- you just don't know how and why the threads are looped together, and that's okay. Do a good thing and something bad happens. Do a bad thing and something good happens. Do nothing and everything explodes.