What if this life is truly death.

Think upon it, before birth we were dead for billions of eons, perhaps this is the afterlife and the past was life.

A writer not only writes what the writer feels but the writer can also feel what the writer writes

Being in love is like playing with fire you always get burned

Must keep my eyes open, can't fall asleep yet, I'm widely wake, but for how long?

This Ink we share is thicker then the blood we don't.

The simpler writes i find here are much more to my fancy, you're always easier to find in them.

There's too little Ms. Frizzle in the world.

Maybe finding someone to share everything with is not the point.
Maybe the point is to feel fulfilled in the self-consciousness of individuality.

'The clever cat eats cheese and breathes down rat holes with baited breath'

- W.C. Fields

Darkness doesn't come in, it's the light that abandons us.