It's Always Easier To Say Good-bye When

There Is No Normal. I've Never Met A Normal Person. The Concept Is Flawed. It Implies That There Is Only One Way People Are Supposed To Be, And That Can't Possible Be True. Human Experience Is Far Too Varied.

With That, I Splashed Some Water On My Face, Fixed On A Smile, And Stepped Out. I Would Find Jerome. I Would Make Him Explain To Me What I Was Missing. We Would Laugh, Then We Would Kiss With Tongue, And All Would Be Well.

It Could Have Been Like A Fairy Tale. But Fairy Tales Aren't Real. Things Don't Work Like That. There's A Price For Everything.

Rory: "people Are Being Serious." Jazza: "there's A Serial Killer Out There. Of Course People Are Being Serious." Rory: "yeah, But What Are The Chances?" Jazza: "i Bet All Of The Victims Thought That." Rory: "but Still, What Are The Chances?" Jazza: "well, I Imagine They Are Several Million To One." Jerome: "not That High. You're Only Dealing With A Small Part Of London. And While There Might Be A Million Or More People In That Area, The Ripper Is Probably Focusing On Women, Because All Of The Original Victims Were Women. So Halve That--" Jazza: "you Really Need Another Hobby.

English Rain Feels Obligatory, Like Paperwork. It Dampens Already Damn Days And Slicks The Stones.