I'm a holocaust, gilded and diamond-studded.

Thumbing my nose at conventional society.

Pasting my soul to the page.

CHAPTER TWO Marcus starts his day Monday through Friday by thrashing some cereal into a plastic bag and running to just barely catch the school bus. Once on the bus, he sits in the back row-by himself, of course-and blocks out all the noise around him with the music from his iPod. An activity he often does is pretend that his eyes are movie cameras, and his looking out the window is actually a really long montage shot while the music playing is the soundtrack. Hey, it helps pass the time. Tod...

Have you ever heard that one or two songs that make your heart beat faster when it gets to a certain part? That punctuates and defines your life better than any dictionary could ever dream of doing? That seems like the rhythm of the guitar is comfortingly strumming your cheek, and the rhythm of the drums softly giving you a pat on the back? Everybody has that one song. For Marcus Lucretius, that song is “Like a Rolling Stone”, by a Mr. Robert Zimmerman, But you may know him better as Bob Dyla...

To create something that is considered normal, at first you must realize that it will be abnormal.