i know everything.
just ask.

i never expected my plan to work, so i'm not sad to see it fail. i think i might compile all these into a book one of these days. i'd read it all again. war poets never get their due.

i see myself fading out very nicely during the course of the next year. i'm almost looking forward to it. butter over too much bread, says mr. underhill...

i'm always trying to figure out a way to leave everything behind without making anyone upset. i'm still thinking.

the sky steals my thunder.