I keep walking toward the fire, toward the warmth, toward the light. But there is something out there, in the dark coldness, that really wants me.
If I'm to be completely honest, there are many out there that do not deserve their lives.
We've been given this manufactured recipe for how life should be lived.
At some point, it all just stops being a choice.
Tattoos call you. The page calls you. Things in the world call you. This is called Duty.
My body is being prepared for something. I just don't know what. But it has got me very, very scared.
I'm not back yet.
Prescribed happiness. There is so much out there.
We are training for the war.
Somewhere where it is very cold + dark.
Seriously though, some people just think too goddamn much.
Even the mundane moments count
You can smell the stench of false fighters a mile away
My purpose in this life is to destroy false prophets.
You can only shit on the earth for so long. Soon or later it revolts.
All of us have that calling. It's more about whether or not you're listening.
The things that you wear well, wear well for a reason.
I think the phrase, "Winter is coming," should be taken more seriously than an HBO catchphrase.
I realize I hate people for absolutely no reason. What a miserable existence.
She could save you.