I sometimes hate the night. Its supposed to be a time of peace, rest, and time for the body, mind and soul to unwind and let go. But there are nights like this where I sit up and wonder about my life and how the choices I have made have influenced me for the good or the bad. Try as I might sometimes I cannot look back and only see the happy
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What are you? I mean, I get that you're a construct of some sort. Are those guns on your fingers?
Who made you? For what purpose?
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It is painful at times. Life is complex, and just gets odd at times. The ill logic of living is some times hard to calculate.
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You've been quiet since the pirate ship. What's on your mind?
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As for Sullivan, I can see why the chicks would go for him. He's a looker, yeah, but I'd have to question them actually going through with it. For obvious reasons.
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I know some women go for that rock & roll bad boy garbage- that unwashed and somewhat slightly dazed is supposed to have an appeal. But what?
I personally never found Charlie Manson to be 'all that'.
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