We just want to walk. Our legs need to move to keep our minds from collapsing.
It will affect me in ways I can’t even begin to get my mind around. This day is a dark crater. There is no room for songs. The songs are wrong. Every song is wrong. And I don’t know what to do without music.
Even though I’m seventeen, I guess I still thought this would always be true – that there would always be that lost-and-found, and not the lost-and-still-lost that I am now trapped inside.
This isn’t even something I’ve feared, because I never knew it was a possibility.
There will always be more questions. Every answer leads to more questions. The only way to survive is to let some of them go.
I am always amazed by people who know something is wrong but still insist on ignoring it, as if that will somehow make it go away. They spare themselves the confrontation, but end up boiling in resentment anyway.
Deep down? That sounds like settling to me. You shouldn’t have to venture deep down in order to get to love.
We were painting by numbers, starting with the greens. Because that happened to be our favorite color. And this, we figured, had to mean something.
I felt like I was missing something. Missing you more. Missing whatever was going to happen next.
Getting what you want is just as difficult as not getting what you want. Because then you have to figure out what to do with it instead of figuring out what to do without it.
Once the storm comes out, the landscape changes. What you had before is altered in some way. And you have a choice: build something new and better from what is left or abandon it.
In the next election, I’m voting for your mom to be the next God.
Love is so painful, how could you ever wish it on anybody? And love is so essential, how could you ever stand in its way?
Because sometimes you just have to dance like a madman in the Self-Help section of your local bookstore.
Life goes on. Get over it. You’re still young. It’ll get better. Blah, Blah, Blah.
It’s as if when you love someone, they become your reason.
You could be the leaf that never falls from the tree you could be the sun that never leaves the sky this might be the happy ending without the ending this might be a reason to try.
Her mind is an unquiet one, words and thoughts and impulses constantly crashing into each other.
I wake up feverish, sore, uncomfortable. Is it sickness or is it heartbreak? I can’t tell. The thermometer says I’m normal, but I’m clearly not.
It feels like I am wasting time. I mean, that’s always the case. My life doesn’t add up to anything.