Prophecy...5 liters...
"Garrett stays like that, stoic and watching the fire build and die between adding branches to the flame as the moon climbs in the sky through a sea of stars. Garrett considers his surroundings before he lets his mind wander. Those who drank it all up stared at a dim sky with scant pin points of light. They were dull, artificial lights made...
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Parting shots and stray memories. I really am an onion, every time I think I'm done there comes another quickly browning layer to pull off. Some other past issue I can chew through and feed off of. A never ending cavalcade of self fulfilling prophecies related to my self loathing. Something new to me like a shitty thrift store Christmas, remember when ______ did _____....
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Polite Banter...5 liters...
“You know, I met Carrington once. Eustice, who names their child Eustice without knowing at the outset that he’s going to wind up an idiot or a monster. He came here on business when that girl upstairs was still crawling on all fours. He was looking to secure interest in his little trash mine. He’s a short man, I don’t abide short...
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They said that nothing in life was free, certainly not love.
Savages...5 liters...
“Remember what I told you that first day after we left Maytag?”
“About bears who eat their young?”
“Circumstance is our inevitable enemy, and hate can be a faithful servant in a crisis but unlike pain it isn’t a constant in life, it can’t be. You’ve added a post script to the story of my life. There has to be hope, even if...
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Familiarity truly does breed contempt.
