I am getting better at smiling when people expect it.

Think about love, or hate, or joy, or pain- whatever makes you feel something, makes your palms sweat, or your toes curl. Focus on that feeling. When people don't express themselves, they die on piece at a time.

I live in the borderlands. The word ghost sounds like memory. The word therapy means exorcism. My visions echo and multiplymultiply. I don't know how to figure out what they mean. I can't tell where they start or if they will end. But I know this. If they shrink my head any more, or float me away on an ocean of pills, I will never return.

I am learning how to be angry and sad and lonely and joyful and excited and afraid and happy.

He says a million things without saying a word. I have never heard a more eloquent silence.

I am beginning to measure myself in strength, not pounds. Sometimes in smiles.

It's easier to floss with barbed wire than admit you like someone in middle school.