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Just tired of people living within a hundred feet of each other and not caring for one another. This is life, and we are all stuck here together. When did we stop making the most of it?
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Written two days after the attacks, and it became the prelude to a 27 page paper for my English class. It was personal. It's still personal.
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Written at three in the morning on the back of a Nissan ad I got in the mail. I couldn't sleep, and I was hungry. Next time, no Cheetos.
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Written on napkins at the food court in the mall, around 5pm, in the spring, college town.
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