Being With People Makes Me

Nothing Happens Carelessly. We’re Not Brought Into The World Without Reason, Even Though We May Never Understand The Reason. An Infant That Lives An Hour, That Dies Before It Can Lay Eyes On Those Who Made It, Even That Soul Did Not Live Without Purpose: This Is My Sudden Certainty.

I Think That Horror Fiction Is One Of The Ways To Approach These Problems Of Death.

I Firmly Believe That A Story Is Only As Good As The Villain.

We Each Die Countless Little Deaths On Our Way To The Last. We Die Out Of Shame As Humiliation. We Perish From Despair. And, Of Course, We Die For Love.

She Had Opened A Door... And Now She Was Walking With Demons. And At The End Of Her Travels, She Would Have Her Revenge... Pain Had Made A Sadist Of Her.