The response to challenge.
Spondulix, tux, and young girls' tongues, and stingers, too.
Incidents.
Repressions, Mr. Wylie. Inferiority, Phil.
What had kept me so steadfast despite my passions of despair? Despite all music—despite the Weltschmerz of underprivileged sophomores?
I looked at my old friend, The Typewriter.
"Somehow they'd rather be kissed To the strains of Chopin or Liszt—"
The more we succeed the more we fail.
When I am gone, who'll write on you and say the same things better?