Something in me, in my bruised heart, wakes up, and even though I'm terrified, I don't push the feeling away.

I felt nothing all the time, and it had started to feel normal. It should have scared me, but it didn't.

The heart is a place with worm holes made by feelings you aren't supposed to have but do.

Something in me, in my bruised heart, wakes up, and even though I'm terrified, I don't push the feeling away.

How come you like Josh so much anyway? All he does is sit around drinking overpriced coffee and bitching about how awful things are" "He cares about the world." "If he cared about the world, he'd donate the ten thousand dollars he must spend on coffee every year to charity. That would be doing something.

I'd dressed up and hoped and I was so tired of doing that, so tired of dreaming and being unable to stop it despite the fact that I'd seen, maybe better than anyone here, what dreams could do to you.

The story of my life can be told in silver: in chocolate mills, serving spoons, and services for twelve. The story of my life has nothing to do with me. The story of my life is things. Things that aren’t mine, that won’t ever be mine. It’s all I’ve ever known. I wish it wasn’t.