I Mean I Know It's Cold Out

Do I Really Want Him Dead? What I Want... What I Want Is To Have Him Back.

I'm Running On Hate. When The Energy From That Ebbs I'll Be Worthless.

Girl Talk. That Thing I've Always Been So Bad At.

What Do You Think?" He Asks. "i Hate Them," I Say. I Can Almost Smell The Blood, The Dirt, The Unnatural Breath Of The Mutt. "all I Do Is Go Around Trying To Forget The Arena And You've Brought It Back To Life. How Do You Remember These Things So Exactly?" "i See Them Every Night," He Says.

It's Not Easy To Find A Topic. Talking Of Home Is Painful. Talking Of The Present Unbearable.