On this open wasteland I stand, alone. My weary hand rests on nothing but the emptiness that is both within and without.

people should know when they're not wanted.

there are many things I would rather no one knew about... but people are stupid. They can't take a hint.

I am tired... of everything...

I need to make a decision.

If I knew who you were, I'd scratch your name on the side of a bullet, get a gun, and wait till we're alone.

I want to quit all my organizations...

right now... I just want to be alone.

why does it hurt so much more when you know there's no hope of him ever coming back?

I wish I was an idiot so I would not know...