We were just looking at ideas of each other.

He knew he couldn't tell stories, that he always included extraneous details & tangents that interested only him.

Crying is you, plus tears

I wish I knew how to quit you, Tumblr.

I just want you to be happy. If that’s with me or with someone else or with nobody. I just want you to be happy.

Okay, maybe I'm not such a shitty writer. But I can't pull my ideas together, Van Houten. My thoughts are stars I can't fathom into constellations.

I don't even know how ugly and pretty get decided.