Taking no chances means wasting your dreams.

Even without them touching me, I feel dirty about what I do. Alex does even filthier things but says it all washes off with soap. I don’t believe that. I think it all leaves stains. Indelible stains.

Anger is easier than forgiveness.

Everyone's afraid of everybody else...maybe because we're all afraid of ourselves.

A breeze blows up, touching my cheek like a little child's kiss. It flutters a piece of paper. "Trash, out there? Must belong to one of us." We move closer, and when I reached for it, I find...... a perfect paper airplane.

I want to know living love. And I don't want to wait for it.

I know I can't stay here forever