I Spent The Next Fifteen Minutes Convincing

I Laid My Hand On Top Of Theirs, And All I Could Think Was, Is This How Revolutions Begin? Not With A Proclamation Or A Riot, But With A Few People In A Room Somewhere With Their Hands Clasped And A Purpose.

If People Would Write Exactly What I Wanted To Read I Wouldn't Feel So Compelled To Write Myself

I Wasn't Crying, My Eyes Were Running. My Eyes Were Running Because There Were Pieces Of Zombies All Over My Toys. Jesus.

Sex Is Like Crying, It Does Look Pretty If You Really Do It

But We Were All Young Once. It Passes, Like Innocence And A Sense Of Fair Play. The Only Thing Left In The End Is A Good Instinct For Survival.