I knew that he was as reliable as a mathematical formula.

You cannot be a prisoner of your past against your will. Because you can only live in the past inside your mind.

I think writers tend to be experience junkies, and I think they also tend to want to be on the outside looking in.

I knew that he was as reliable as a mathematical formula.

My thoughts seem thick, ketchup stuck in a bottle. Like trying to feel someone's face while wearing goosedown mittens.

Maybe you feel pressure to be positive because so many people rely on your good, fake-positive energy? If that's the case, screw everybody else. You're not a bottle of Valium.

You manufacture beauty with your mind