I usually know almost exactly how I feel. The problem is, I just can't tell anyone.

My mother's psychologist says I have an overactive anger switch, but people just keep pissing me off.

However, because they have no actual interests of their own (or if they do, they squelch them in order to fit in) and merely pursue those that they think will look best on their college apps, they're zombies.

Sometimes I just want to write a really intense love scene. But I can't do that in my books for teens, or parents will complain - believe me, I've tried.

But I had loved him. A part of me still did. Maybe more than a part of me, because I'm a complete moron.

I don't do alcohol. Or other people's boyfriends. And don't you forget it.

How is it that I'd nearly been smothered to death, and yet I could sit there and notice things like my stepbrother's abdominal muscles a few minutes later?