I still don't know how to drive. I don't go anywhere, really. My brother drives me. I walk around my neighborhood but I don't go anywhere, nor do I want to.

I'm such an incredibly, stupidly sensitive person that everything that happens to me, I experience it really intensely. I feel everything very deeply. And when you feel things deeply and you think about things a lot and you think about how you feel, you learn a lot about yourself. And when you know yourself, you know life.

For me, the best times are always going to be the most intense, the ones with the highest highs and the lowest lows.

I want to be like the patron saint of reality.

I took off my glasses while you were yelling at me once more than once so as not to see you see me react. Should've put 'em, should've put 'em on again so I could see you see me sincerely yelling back.

I'm not lazy, but I don't have that spur on my ass that most people have, like, "Oh, god. I have to get something out or else my career will be over!" I don't really care if my career is over.

The early cars already are drawing deep breaths past my door. And last night's phrases sick with lack of basis are still writhing on my floor.