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I immediately thought of the stars. Stars. Heavenly bodies formed by huge clouds of dust and gas bumpinginto one another, getting bigger, their gravity getting stronger. Once hot enough, nuclear fusion occurs. And then a star is formed.People are shaped in a similar way__ust like stars__xcessive amounts of dust and hot gas. And like stars, everyone__ life has a turning point prior to their big bang. The shit show before the creation. Y __now, one of those moments that can fuck you up.Cleopatra__ was when her father named her joint regent at fourteen. Fucked-up.Bruce Wayne__ when he witnessed his parents get murdered. Fucked-up.Charles Manson__ when his mother sold him for a pitcher of beer. Fucked. Up.Not to mention 'Helter Skelter.
Jorge Enrique Ponce
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I immediately thought of the stars. Stars. Heavenly bodies formed by huge clouds of dust and gas bumpinginto one another, getting bigger, their gravity getting stronger. Once hot enough, nuclear fusion occurs. And then a star is formed.People are shaped in a similar way__ust like stars__xcessive amounts of dust and hot gas. And like stars, everyone__ life has a turning point prior to their big bang. The shit show before the creation. Y __now, one of those moments that can fuck you up.Cleopatra__ was when her father named her joint regent at fourteen. Fucked-up.Bruce Wayne__ when he witnessed his parents get murdered. Fucked-up.Charles Manson__ when his mother sold him for a pitcher of beer. Fucked. Up.Not to mention 'Helter Skelter.

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Do we take less pride in the possession of our home because its walls were built by some unknown carpenter, its tapestries woven by some unknown weaver on a far Oriental shore, in some antique time? No. We show our home to our friends with the pride as if it were our home, which it is. Why then should we take less pride when reading a book written by some long-dead author? Is it not our book just as much, or even more so, than theirs? So the landowner says, __ook at my beautiful home! Isn__ it fine?_ And not, __ook at the home so-and-so has built._ Thus we shouldn__ cry, __ook what so-and-so has written. What a genius so-and-so is!_ But rather, __ook at what I have read! Am I not a genius? Have I not invented these pages? The walls of this universe, did I not build? The souls of these characters, did I not weave?

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Why are you in my room?___ecause I can be.___ou shouldn__ be.___ave it, Rochester. You broke my nose.___oes it hurt?__e lifted a hand toward his face and dropped it. __ou could say that.___ood.__e nudged a tray on the floor with his boot. It had oatmeal, toast, and orange juice on it. __ungry?__onor__ stomach growled. __o.__yder__ lips turned up in a fleeting sadistic smile. He kicked the tray across the room. It hit the wall and overturned. __ood.