I Am A Gluttonous, Gorging Failure. A

Revision Means Throwing Out The Boring Crap And Making What’s Left Sound Natural.

There's No Point In Asking Why, Even Though Everybody Will. I Know Why. The Harder Question Is "why Not?" I Can't Believe She Ran Out Of Answers Before I Did.

The Constitution Does Not Recognize Different Classes Of Citizenship Based On Time Spent Living In The Country. I Am A Citizen, With The Same Rights As Your Son, Or You. As A Citizen, And As A Student, I Am Protesting The Tone Of This Lesson As Racist, Intolerant, And Xenophobic.

The Stuffing/puking/stuffing/puking/stuffing/puking Didn't Make Her Skinny, It Made Her Cry.

I Live In The Borderlands. The Word Ghost Sounds Like Memory. The Word Therapy Means Exorcism. My Visions Echo And Multiplymultiply. I Don't Know How To Figure Out What They Mean. I Can't Tell Where They Start Or If They Will End. But I Know This. If They Shrink My Head Any More, Or Float Me Away On An Ocean Of Pills, I Will Never Return.