Some Things Were Better Lost

I Was Sitting One Day And Thinking About Cannibalism, Because That's What Guys Like Me Do... And I Thought, Suppose A Guy Was Washed Up On A Rocky Island, How Much Of Himself Could He Eat?

Poe Was The First Writer To Write About Main Characters Who Were Bad Guys Or Who Were Mad Guys, And Those Are Some Of My Favorite Stories.

The Thing Under My Bed Waiting To Grab My Ankle Isn't Real. I Know That, And I Also Know That If I'm Careful To Keep My Foot Under The Covers, It Will Never Be Able To Grab My Ankle.

I've Met Talespinners Before, Jake, And They're All Cut More Or Less From The Same Cloth. They Tell Tales Because They're Afraid Of Life.

So Do We Pass The Ghosts That Haunt Us Later In Our Lives; They Sit Undramatically By The Roadside Like Poor Beggars, And We See Them Only From The Corners Of Our Eyes, If We See Them At All. The Idea That They Have Been Waiting There For Us Rarely Crosses Our Minds. Yet They Do Wait, And When We Have Passed, They Gather Up Their Bundles Of Memory And Fall In Behind, Treading In Our Footsteps And Catching Up, Little By Little.