Since I’ve known you, you’ve been spinning and spinning and spinning into all these various personas, and none of this self-exploration and experimentation has given you a sense of peace. I’ve known you for six years, intimately for four, and I still have no idea who I’m in love with.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be finished. No matter how much I write, there will always be something I should’ve said.

Most people talk when they have nothing to say. I’m not talking because I have too much to say. None of which I’d want you to hear.

There's only one racing strategy that matters.It's the one I run by: Get in the lead and don't let anyone pass you.

It kind of makes me wish that the worst thing that will ever happen to me would just hurry up and happen already. That way I could live the rest of my life in bliss, if only because I know how much worse things could be.

I can let my true self shine in front of God.

Even with the best intentions, growing apart might just be an inevitable part of growing up.