I'm Sick Of Doing Bad

I Belong To The People I Love, And They Belong To Me--they, And The Love And Loyaty I Give Them, Form My Identity Far More Than Any Word Or Group Ever Could.

His Eyes Search The Crowd Until They Find My Face. My Heartbeat Lives In My Throat; Lives In My Cheeks. "i Still Don't Understand," He Says Softly, "how She Knew That It Would Work.

Sometimes I Forget That I Can Hurt You. That You Are Capable Of Being Hurt

I Suppose That Now Would Be The Time To Ask For Forgiveness For All The Things I've Done, But I'm Sure My List Would Never Be Complete. I Also Don't Believe That Whatever Comes After Life Depends On My Correctly Reciting A List Of My Transgressions...i Don't Believe That What Comes After Depends On Anything I Do At All.

In Some Parts Of The Ancient World, The Hawk Symbolized The Sun. Back When I Got This, I Figured If I Always Had The Sun On Me, I Wouldn't Be Afraid Of The Dark