Your friends don't dance, so they are no friends of mine
Every tear contains a little bit of soul.
That’s why the Devil cannot cry.
That’s why my mom, who sits behind closed doors at night, missing her husband, sobbing into her pillow with wails she hopes I can’t hear, but even as a little girl I could always tell when she was crying and I would go and press my ear up against the tall white double-doors that shielded her whimpering body, and just listen, well that’s why she is little more than a shell now, because she cried too much of her soul away. Now she just kind of sits there with disheveled hair and will only make me mac n’ cheese and no longer asks about my day. She gets skinnier by the week and soon I worry I’ll wake up and she just won’t be there anymore. I hope that day never comes.
Do you know why they bury people 6 feet underground?
It’s because the average post mortem body can dig itself out of a 5 foot hole. So we put them 6 feet under. So they stay.
But I think when I died, a long time ago, the workers accidentally made my hole 5 feet deep.
So I climbed out. But just barely.
And so I am still here, when I am supposed to be down there.
I think people notice, and they look at me weird, but they never say anything.
I miss my hole.
Interior shot. Courthouse. Hank has all the evidence he needs to convict Walter. Walter is called up to testify.
Judge: Anything you want to say, Mr. White?
Walter looks directly into the camera
"I fucked Ted."
Flashback of Walt taking advantage of Ted’s disabilities, Ted screaming.
I would love you if you followed my other blog, where I do creative writing stuff.
Pretty cool how if you run out of money you can just stab someone and take theirs
my brother is upset because he did not win the bug catching contest
my brother is in the United States Marine Corps
”Okay, listen to me for a second, I’ve been thinking, just hear me out here for a second, I’ve been thinking, like deep thinking that I do sometimes, and I realized, this is going to sound weird, but there is no such thing as good or evil. Shh. Wait. Let me elaborate. Don’t look at me like that, hear me out. Trust me. Think about it. What motivates somebody to make a decision? Like, real deep down?
A cornered and betrayed animal stormed out of the room. On the door were punctuated white-knuckled crevices where her newly manicured nails tore into the soft, white wood. With a quick but powerful flick of the wrist, she slammed the door and whirled around. However, the expected deafening thud was replaced with a soft and gentle impact. Jared was right behind her, and completely ruined her exit.