The Death Of Dictator Kim

I Know It Really Sounds Cheesy, But I Did Feel A Duty To Try To Tell The Stories Of People Who Couldn't Speak For Themselves.

The Next Day, She Was Silent. For Breakfast, She Murdered An Onion And Served It Raw.

The Urge To Create A Fictional Narrative Is A Mysterious One, And When An Idea Comes, The Writer's Sense Of What A Story Wants To Be Is Only Vaguely Visible Through The Penumbra Of Inspiration.

Had She Never Been Hungry Enough To Eat A Flower? Did She Not Know That You Could Eat Daisies, Daylilies, Pansies, And Marigolds? That Hungry Enough, A Person Could Consume The Bright Faces Of Violas, Even The Stems Of Dandelions And The Bitter Hips Of Roses?

Life Brings What It Brings. I Might Be Young But I've Learnt This: Prepare For Each Blind Corner With Your Strongest Shoulder Dropped, Ready To Smash Through Whatever Is Thrown At You Next. Once The Dust Clears You Will Be Standing Tall, A Champion, A Victor. Nothing Will Be Able To Knock You Down Once You've Taken The Biggest Hits This Life Has To Offer, So Come On Life, Bring It!