I love the smell of Waffle House; it's the smell of freedom, being on the open road and knowing that ninety percent of the people eating around you are also on that road. Truck driver's, road-trippers, hangovers--those who don't live that monotonous life of society slavery.

I shattered that memory by going back there. Without realizing it until it was too late, I replaced that memory with the emptiness of that day.

Live in the moment, where everything is just right, take your time and limit your bad memories and you'll get wherever it is you're going a lot faster and with less bumps in the way.

I wonder if the ocean smells different on the other side of the world.

He never leaves my side. And I know he never will.

You were the missing piece of my soul, the breath in my lungs, and the blood in my veins.

Coincidence is just the conformist term for fate.