There is the sudden. There is the eventual. And in between, there is the living.

me giving my mom romantic advice is kind of like a goldfish giving a snail advice on how to fly.” -Will Grayson (pg. 66)

They don’t have silences together; they have noise. Mostly his.

Because that's the thing about mean people: They make you think that the world will never work, that there are divides that you will fall into if you approach. It takes a whole lot of good people to fill in the breach created by a single mean one.

I know the odds are all against me and I know you might not feel this way too but I know I would rather die trying to know if I could mean something to you

As if when someone close to us dies, we momentarily trade places with them, in the moment right before. And as we get over it, we’re really living their life in reverse, from death to life, from sickness to health.

Deep breaths. I am taking deep breaths. Composure. Which, for me, means composing... Maybe this is my way of creating the illusion of control over something I have no control over. Like, if it's just a story I'm telling or a song I'm singing, then I'll be okay because I'm the guy who's providing the words.