I Live In The Borderlands. The Word

Who Wants To Recover? It Took Me Years To Get That Tiny. I Wasn't Sick; I Was Strong.

I'm The Only One Sitting Alone, Under The Glowing Neon Sign Which Reads, "complete And Total Loser, Not Quite Sane. Stay Away. Do Not Feed.

None Of [the Books Are] Worth Reading. There Are No Fairy Tales, No Faerie Tails, No Sword-swinging Princesses Or Lightning-throwing Gods.

Mr. Freeman: You Are Getting Better At This, But It's Not Good Enough. This Looks Like A Tree,but It Is An Average, Ordinary, Everyday, Boring Tree. Breathe Life Into It. Make It Bend - Trees Are Flexible, So They Don't Snap. Scar It, Give It A Twisted Branch - Perfect Trees Don't Exist. Nothing Is Perfect. Flaws Are Interesting. Be The Tree.

We Tilt Our Heads Back And Open Wide. The Snow Drifts Into Our Zombie Mouths Crawling With Grease And Curses And Tobacco Flakes And Cavities And Boyfriend/girlfriend Juice, The Stain Of Lies. For One Moment We Are Not Failed Tests And Broken Condoms And Cheating On Essays; We Are Crayons And Lunch Boxes And Swinging So High Our Sneakers Punch Holes In The Clouds. For One Breath Everything Feels Better. Then It Melts. The Bus Drivers Rev Their Engines And The Ice Cloud Shatters. Everyone Shuffles Forward. They Don't Know What Just Happened. They Can't Remember.