I feel like a paper cut just waiting to bleed.

He had no secrets left. No defenses. He had nothing, except that same vast, dark, empty, infinite ache that had resided in him for as long as he could remember. An endless flight of stairs, leading down and down into the cold, dark pit of his soul. Now, at long last, he’d reached the absolute rock bottom. And there she was, just standing there. She’d been there all along.

I got a kick out of those who whined about their soul. Worried they were losing it. Let’s get one thing straight, you didn’t lose your soul. You always knew where it was or where it went, you cannot lose something you gave away or sold or had broken past repair. Your soul was like your arm, you didn’t lose your arm. Your arm was either there or it wasn’t, and you usually knew why it wasn’t there

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