He felt homesick for places he had never been. He missed hearts he had never loved.

It takes knowledge to know something. It takes guts to do what you know.

Fear owns me because I let it. Because I obsess over it, name it, raise it, and nurture it to become perfect. It is one of the few things in my life that I can control.

This story never really had a point. It’s just a lull - a skip in the record. We are addresses in ghost towns. We are old wishes that never came true. We are hand grenades (and every word you say pulls the pin). We are all gods, we are all monsters.

I'll be your number one with a bullet.

The hardest thing about depression is that it is addictive. It begins to feel uncomfortable not to be depressed. You feel guilty for feeling happy.

It wasn’t me! Look at how little I am. I’m a little guy.