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“My mom once told me I shot down from the stars; you know, instead of that whole stork nonsense. I used to believe her until I found out the truth. I prefer the star story, but I’m told that if I live long enough my preference will change.”
― Dreams of a Nobody
― Dreams of a Nobody
“I want to run around and play, too. I want to play tag without constantly being “it,” because when I chase somebody now I’m ordered to make them a body that can never tag me back. I want to spin around until I get dizzy and feel like I have to puke. Then laugh and do it all over again. Not spin around to kill the person ready to stab me in the back and then vomit because of the resulting nausea. There’s a part of me that wants to do the things that I now think are too stupid or too childish; it’s just that part of me owes a debt to Death, and they’re playing a mean game of hide-and-seek.”
― Dreams of a Nobody
― Dreams of a Nobody
“He has a cigarette dangling loosely from His lips, the lit end smoldering and showing itself to me as the moon. Its heat caused the colors to melt into one another and the flicked ashes streak down the sky as shooting stars. Did the stress of perfecting Creation ever get bad enough to make God need a cigarette? I mean, He has to be stressed making something like me and my situation, right? You can’t be relaxed and at ease when you do that. He can’t not give a damn. I wonder how many times He redrew me before saying to hell with it. Then I looked at my clothes and bare feet. To hell with it, indeed.”
― Dreams of a Nobody
― Dreams of a Nobody


