Ren Hang Quotes

Okay, I’d had a variety of Rock Chick chinwags where the girls let it all hang out about their guys and how they communicated in Asshole, but I’d never experienced it personally. And Ren had just demonstrated he was fluent in Asshole. It must be said, I didn’t like it much.

We have some ideas about the afterlife, about why we’re still here. The thing about a life being cut short, when it’s not by choice and not with any rhyme or reason or hinted at by diagnosis or threat, is that sometimes, some of you will want to hang on. We do. We can’t seem to find a way to leave.

Still, pouring jizz into a baggie tube hanging from my dick while inside someone is strange as hell. But a good strange. I mean, the alternative is not having sex. And I’m now fucking addicted to fucking.

فخورٌ بيديَّ لأني بهما دَمّرتُ حياتي، بينما الآخرون دُمِرت حياتهم بأَيْدٍ أُخرى. ** جئت إلى بلاد السكاكين، لستُ سكيناً، أنا مجرد جرح. ** كل الناس سعداء و واثقين من أنفسهم ، وجهُ الجميع تَشّي بذلك، قلوبهم ملك أيديهم. كل القبلاتِ سُمّ وكل الأحضانِ زنازين.

We will need to stay over two nights in a hotel on our trip home.” Momentarily alarmed, I glanced at Ren. “Okay. Umm, I was thinking that maybe this time if you don’t mind, we could check out one of those bigger hotels. You know, something that has more people around. With elevators and rooms that lock. Or even better, a nice high-rise hotel in a big city. Far, far, far away from the jungle?” Mr. Kadam chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.” I graced Mr. Kadam with a beatific smile. “Good! Could we please go now? I can’t wait to take a shower.” I opened the door to the passenger side then turned and hissed in a whisper aimed at Ren, “In my nice, upper-floor, inaccessible-to-tigers hotel room.” He just looked at me with his innocent, blue-eyed tiger face again. I smiled wickedly at him and hopped in the Jeep, slamming the door behind me. My tiger just calmly trotted over to the back where Mr. Kadam was loading the last of his supplies and leapt up into the back seat. He leaned in the front, and before I could push him away, he gave me a big, wet, slobbery tiger kiss right on my face. I sputtered, “Ren! That is so disgusting!” I used my T-shirt to swipe the tiger saliva from my nose and cheek and turned to yell at him some more. He was already lying down in the back seat with his mouth hanging open, as if he were laughing. Before I could really lay into him, Mr. Kadam, who was the happiest I’d ever seen him, got into the Jeep, and we started the bumpy journey back to a civilized road. Mr. Kadam wanted to ask me questions. I knew he was itching for information, but I was still fuming at Ren, so I lied. I asked him if he could hold off for a while so I could sleep. I yawned big for dramatic effect, and he immediately agreed to let me have some peace, which made me feel guilty. I really liked Mr. Kadam, and I hated lying to people. I excused my actions by mentally blaming Ren for this uncharacteristic behavior. Convincing myself that it was his fault was easy. I turned to the side and closed my eyes. I slept for a while, and when I woke up, Mr. Kadam handed me a soda, a sandwich, and a banana. I raised my eyebrow at the banana and thought of several good monkey jokes I could annoy Ren with, but I kept quiet for Mr. Kadam’s sake.

I just throw a stone into the dark everyday. I have never received any echo. If life is a bottomless abyss, then when I fling myself, the endless fall is also a kind of flying.

When I speak, never look the other person in the eyes. I always look at my feet, my shoes, my shoe laces, at the pattern from the floor, the road, the chewing gum spit on the street and the cracks. I always bow my head. I never want to look up. The ground is for me the sky. I feel like a kite, fluttering.

I am awake. I want to see. I looked at myself in the mirror. I am becoming more and more another person. A person that I have never seen. [...] who am I? Those pieces can not make a complete "me" again.

You've taken part in this world that you seemed to be separated by a layer. Sometimes it's like fog, sometimes it's like a piece of glass, sometimes it's like a wall, sometimes it's like a mountain, sometimes they appear separated even a bit of time and space.

I want to die, but I want to live more.

I tried so hard to do something. I thought about talking with them several phrases. But I am afraid to say a word. But even the most ordinary words like "good", "not good", "want" or "do not”, I am afraid to tell. I told myself that I must go now.

I don't want your hanging meat parasailing toward me. Please, double bubble-wrap it, and put it in storage already.