Evil Things was written on the back of a napkin at house party a friend had thrown. It was just about the time where everyone had already drunk a bit too much and lips became loose. Secrets had become table talk and the problems my friends were trying to mask by drinking came to light. After that, the party had become awkward and stale. On the back of a napkin I had grabbed from the kitchen table and I pen I had found on the floor tossed aside the living room couch, I wrote about how badly I didn’t want to be there anymore.