The little boy smiled back at all the angry faces glaring in at him. And the little boy blew kisses.

I wanted to destroy everything beautiful I'd never have.

You could go church and you could describe your worst behavior, your worst self, and despite your worst behavior you would be forgiven and then redeemed and then accepted back into the community through communion. So you didn't have to carry this burden your entire life. Once a week you went someplace you went someplace where you could really look terrible and be loved despite how terrible you were.

Picture the moment when your mom and dad first saw you as something other than a pretty, tiny version of them. You as them, but improved. Better educated. Innocent. Then picture when you stopped being their dream.

With insomnia, you're never really awake; but you're never really asleep.

I used rebellion as a way to hide out. We use criticism as a fake participation.

I want to have your abortion.