Sometimes it doesn't matter how dark the world gets. You can be saved by the smallest thing.

From the window, I watch the city and the freeway. In the distance, the sky-rises look like mystic spires, unbearably close and far. I want to pick them up and eat them. I want to scream out loud sometimes, but I never do.

Once, I ordered two thousand lady bugs from the local garden center and set them loose in the atrium. I sprinkled marigold seeds in the ficus planters and put gold fish in the lobby fountain. These are things I did with no consequences, no repercussions. My nineteen detentions were for smart answers and missed homework. There is no equivalent punishment for making the world a stranger place.

People make decisions, and maybe you don't always agree, but those choices are still their own.

All great acts are ruled by intention. What you mean is what you get.

It's strange, but seeing something broken is somehow worse when you can tell that it used to be beautiful.

The world is full of unused corners.