I've always felt that animals are the purest spirits in the world. They don't fake or hide their feelings, and they are the most loyal creatures on Earth. And somehow we humans think we're smarter-what a joke.

Seems it's my destiny for love to cause me misery.

When I was in seventh grade my mom caught me smoking cigarettes and punished me by making me smoke the entire carton. All it did was piss me off because I was out of cigarettes.

I've always felt like the underdog, and I'm comfortable with that label.

Cutting, and suicide, two very different symptoms of the same problem, are gaining on us. I personally don't know a single person who doesn't know at least two of these victims personally.

I look at Willow and she's so naughty and fiery, and I'm not going to take any of her fierceness personally - my mom took all of my behavior personally. Everything I did, she thought it was an act of rebellion against her. But it was just me being me. And that's something I want to post on every mirror in my house: This is not about you!

I'm not barbie, and im alright with that.