Wednesday, 28 January 2009

You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-You-Are? You're chicken. You've got no guts.
You're afraid to say, "Ok, life's a fact." People do fall in love. People do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for happiness.
You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing. You're terrified somebody's going to stick you in a cage. Well, baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded by Tulip, Texas, or Somaliland. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you end up running into yourself.

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