I'm like the guy who prepares your taxes or a dentist. I'm very conservative and boring in a lot of ways.

But then, look at me. My brain is incorrectly formed, and I'm shaped like a tube. Plus, I'm an alcoholic, a "survivor" of childhood sexual abuse, was raised in a cult and have no education. So, really, if you think about it, the only thing that separates me from the guy with the stinky foot and no teeth is a book deal and some cologne.

Part of me believes that love is more valuable when you have to work for it.

Imperfections are attractive when their owners are happy with them.

I missed him so much that I had physical sensations of loss, all over my body. Like one minute I was missing an arm, the next my spleen. It was making me feel sick, like throwing up.

Truthfulness itself is almost medication, even when it’s served without advice or insight.

What I think of blogs is just this: Some are beautifully written and many are not. But even blogs that aren't necessarily "well" written are great for the person writing them.