What are your thoughts?' 'My thoughts?' I replied, before I even realized what I was saying. 'My thoughts created my world.' Mac sat up in his seat. He scrunched his curls with his hands, perplexed. 'Who said that?' I told him the truth. 'Oh, just someone I used to know,' I said, stroking the naked skin on my middle finger.

Fortunately for me, I'm still evolving into the person I'm supposed to be. And though they don't know it yet, and may not come to accept it, I'm done living by their protocols or anyone else's. I'm the only one who will take credit for my successes. And I'm the only one who will take the blame for my mistakes. From now on, I live for me.

Plagiarism has been around far longer than the Internet. In fact, I had a poem published in 'Seventeen' magazine when I was 15 years old. About a year later I was informed that there was a girl who used that same poem to win a statewide poetry competition in Alabama. It took months for people to put together that this had happened.

He always loved her because of, not in sprite of, her flaws.

We are perfect in our imperfection.

I don't know anything about anything. The only difference between then and now is this: I may know more than I used to but my wisdom pales in comparison to that which I have yet to learn

I love you. And I want you, too. But. However. Unfortunately...