So I just reread pretty much everything on here

There's parts of the things that I wrote that I liked quite a bit. Then there's parts that made me cringe. But let's just talk about the first of those because I'd prefer the latter to remain my own dirty filthy little secrets, yes?

Turns out you don't need to title things to post them. Of course, that makes the first sentence the title, which screws up the indexing somewhat due to length variance. So it's much better this way.

The song could always make him hurt, for it sang in the language of secret truths that he held in his heart.

Sandra stared down into the wineglass and muttered a curse for her twin. Where most people would pray, she alone knew that her brother was a vindictive bastard. That and, more directly, so was she. She was bitter and angry and even when the world owed her it gave her news like this.

"If I had to ask you how much you make up on the spot, what would your answer be?"
"I'd tell you not to ask stupid questions."
"What makes that question stupid?"
"Because that's as close to an answer you'd get, and if you didn't expect an answer like that then it's not just the question that's stupid, now is it"

How much bullshit will you wade through before you get out of the field? Or at least get a pair of boots?

Everything I say here is a lie. That doesn't make me a liar; my lies happen to tell nothing but the truth.

Doing without meaning is different from doing without purpose.