We’re products of our choices.
I wish emotional bruises healed like physical ones.
When your heart is shattered into a million pieces, all you can do is try to keep holding on. You breathe. You try to fall asleep. You try to not think about him.
When I’m a teacher, I won’t be using red pens to grade papers. Red pens will forever be associated with criticism and bad grades in my mind. I don’t want this person to get their short story back with harsh red pen marks all over it. Purple is much friendlier.
Your life can end in a flash before you even have time to know it’s over. There is no safe. There is no control.
Happiness is not limited. There’s enough for everyone.
How could something that felt so right actually be so wrong?
But life’s never easy when you need it to be.
It’s like once everyone decides who you are, you’re locked into their version of you and that’s it.
How can someone who means so much to a person mean nothing the next day?
My hair is so scary that if you saw it walking down the street, you’d cross to the other side. This humidity is not helping. It’s just an excuse for my hair to let its frizz flag fly.
It’s interesting how you can know someone for a long time, and then one day you just see them in this whole different way.
No one should be ashamed to speak up. Shame makes it easy for neglect and abuse and bullying to stay huddled together in their dark corner. It’s time to throw the switch on this spotlight. If I can inspire other kids to speak their truth, then everything I’ve been through will have been worth it.
I’m so excited that my stomach is in a jiggle-jaggle of nerves. There they go again. Jiggle. Jaggle. I’m a mess.
Tobey puts the CD on. Then he comes over and hugs me. I lean my head on his chest. ‘I want to know everything about you,’ he whispers.
I’ve already lived through the worst time of my life. So I know that whatever happens to me from now on, nothing will ever be as bad as it was back then. That makes me happy.
Girls with the beauty-and-brains thing going on are the most intimidating girls in the world.
SEEING BELIEVING what’s in front of you is not necessarily the entire story.
School would be way more tolerable if everyone wasn’t so afraid to be who they really are. And if everyone else would let them.
Its so weird how connecting with someone in a different setting can bring out this whole other side of them. Like how certain places inspire us to act in ways we normally wouldn’t.
Not even a repeat of Dawson’s Creek makes me feel better.