Everybody's still miserable in the same way they've always been miserable, and more and more of my friends - especially my male friends - find themselves taking anti-anxiety, psychotropic drugs. It seems like everybody I know is wondering if they're really who they are, or once the prescription runs out, will they become someone different?

You could stab a knife right through my heart and you'd be too late.

I just don't want to die without a few scars.

How everything you ever love will reject you or die. Everything you ever create will be thrown away. Everything you're proud of will end up as trash.

Her voice makes me think of her mouth makes me think of her breath makes me think of her breasts.

Some little part of themselves for someone in the future to discover. Maybe a thought. We were here. We built this. A reminder.

What you write should entertain you and serve you first. Don't worry about maintaining anything beyond your own attention. Focus on exorcising your demons in the work. If you can do that, then you'll succeed in the world.