Why the hell shouldn't I run away with the circus?

When will people learn that just because you can make something doesn’t mean you should?

The sky the sky- same as it always was.

When did I stop being me?

I have to convince myself that this is not a pointless life, even the body is telling me so.

Honey, I plan to marry you the moment the ink is dry on that death certificate.

I used to think I preferred getting old to the alternative, but now I'm not sure. Sometimes the momotony of bingo and sing-alongs and ancient dusty people parked in the hallway in wheelchairs makes me long for death. Particularly when I rememver that I'm one of the ancient dusty people, filed away like some worthless tchotchke.