The Key Holds The Truth

I Told Myself It Was The Snow—she Couldn’t Possibly Get To Philadelphia On The Roads. I Told Myself A Hundred Lies. Children Do That. It’s Amazing The Sorts Of Things You’ll Make Yourself Believe.

It's As If I've Inherited A Skin I Cannot Quite Fit, And So I Walk About Constantly Pulling And And Tugging, Pinning And Pruning, Trying Desperately To Fill It Out, Hoping That No One Will Look At Me Struggling And Say, 'that One There- She's A Fraud, Look How She Doesn't Fit At All.

I've Never Done Acid, Finding It Hard To Go Willingly To A Place That Could Be Frightening, Hellish, And Totally Beyond My Control. A Place Much Like High School.

Oh, I Didn't Think It Wise To Hide It. Might Not Be Able To Find It Again," I Say, Cheerily. "it's Sitting In Plain View On Your Chair In The Great Hall. I Do Hope That Was The Best Place For It.

I Don't Know. Sometimes, I Feel Nothing, And I'm So Afraid. Afraid I'll Stop Feeling Anything At All. I'll Just Slip Away Inside Myself...i Just Need To Feel Something" A Great And Terrible Beauty, Page 177, By