..and Only Sticks And Stones Can Break

You Love Someone, You've Got To Let Something Go.

On The Fifth Day, Which Was A Sunday, It Rained Very Hard. I Like It When It Rains Hard. It Sounds Like White Noise Everywhere, Which Is Like Silence But Not Empty.

But I Don't Feel Sad About It. Because Mother Is Dead. And Because Mr. Shears Isn't Around Anymore. So I Would Be Feeling Sad About Something That Isn't Real And Doesn't Exist. And That Would Be Stupid.

Usually People Look At You When They're Talking To You. I Know That They're Working Out What I'm Thinking, But I Can't Tell What They're Thinking. It Is Like Being In A Room With A One-way Mirror In A Spy Film.

I Want My Name To Mean Me.