The act of walking on tiptoes across warm sand.
“What did you see?” said Pippin to Sam, but Sam was too deep in thought to answer. Tolkien
sucks. If things continue the way they’ve been going for the past few weeks, I’ll be achy and tired constantly, sleeping four hours a night, distracted at work, never hungry, always thirsty - until I finish this story.
I can’t stop thinking about them.
To the Philipses - I hope you turn out okay.
To Taylor - I think you’ll turn out okay. Actually, I’m pretty sure you’ll turn out okay. I know so.
Lizbee - I really, sincerely hope you turn out okay. But life is rough, girlfrand. I’m sorry.
Dean - I don’t know what to say to you, but I hope you turn out okay as well. I think you will.
Cameron - I hope you turn out okay.
Tonight, I showered,
and now I feel much cleaner.
I like it that way.