sauvage.

euphemia. euphemia. euphemia. in my dreams.

do you remember ?

please don't be angry with me. we don't have enough time.

the j in marijuana is silent but the j in my hand loud as fuck.

you are rotten, wasting yourself and those near away. you'll never be more than you are now.

evening approaches, grim and grief-stricken; the guilt arrives next. i don't know who i am tonight.

i have a tremendous, unyielding rage. it doesn't belong to me, and i do not know what to do with it.

mama .. my face doesn't look like your's. when you die, how will i remember you ?

you're mine, and i'll take whatever comes with that.

is it better to be born good or to overcome evil through great effort ?

you should have married her before. you knew how she felt. ／ don't you think i wanted that ? ／ then why didn't you ? ／ because .. my war isn't over yet ..

you are not capable of insulting—even in thought—her, who so loved and so loves you.

yes, yes, yes. i do like you. i am afraid to write the stronger word.

gatsby looked at daisy the way all girls want to be looked at.

please — consider me as a dream.

in another life, but why not now ? why not this one ?

do you still perform autopsies on conversations you've had lives ago ?