forgot to protect myself from the explosion, and got soaked in appley goodness.

Who said it was a problem. The candle that burns twice as fast burns twice as bright. I'm officially dead when I stop being unique. As soon as I settle down in an average middle-class house and work at an average middle-class job, with an average middle-class family, well, I don't know. That's what scares me the most, and drinking kinda helps me forget that very possible situation. And it isn't like I haven't always been this way, either.

You know that feeling when you remember some body you once knew, but don't know anymore for various reasons? It's kinda like the person died, even though you know they're still alive. That they're just a memory connected to a bunch of muddied emotions.

even though you know they're still alive. That they're just a memory connected to a bunch of muddied emotions.