I canโt tell anymore when Iโm asleep and when Iโm awake, or which is worse.
There is something about Christmas that requires a rug rat. Little kids make Christmas fun. I wonder if could rent one for the holidays.
He doesn't see my breasts or my waist or my hips. He only sees the nightmare.
Eating was hard. Breathing was hard. Living was hardest.
Melancholy held me hostage, and the bees built a hive of sadness in my soul.
I have ten bucks in my pocket - what to spend it on? French fries - ten dollars' worth of french fries, ultimate fantasy.