Categories are gibberish to me. I understand - it helps people organize their thoughts. But you can't go too far with it.

I'm not a control freak.

Dreams can be deceiving, like faces are to hearts.

I would never kill myself, but you can kind of let yourself die.

My derring-do allows me to dance the rigadoon around you but by the time I'm close to you I lose my desideratum.

I've gone through stages where I hate my body so much that I won't even wear shorts and a bra in my house because if I pass a mirror, that's the end of my day.

Now I feel like whatever I do, no one can hurt me. I cannot be violated, I cannot be humiliated, I cannot be disregarded, I cannot be disrespected.