But you couldn’t touch this kid right now, bullets would have dodged him.

Emo is over, you can all go home now

I’ve always been a dreamer, have always believed in the power of love and art and loud, life-affirming rock and roll, but, for the first time, I’m starting to have doubts. Can a dream even exist in reality? Or does it turn to stone the second it leaves your mind?

I'm an insomniac, my mind works the night shift.

I'm not a real big fan of penises. Like my own, whenever I look at it, I just don't find anything attractive about it. I can't believe girls are into it. It blows my mind a little bit.

Underwear. It's like a god damned leash. It also constantly reminds me of how funny I look naked.

This is how your heart gets snagged, like a balloon on a barbed-wire fence, this is where pieces of you get torn away.