I have decided that maybe I want to write when I grow up. I just don't know what I would write.

So what's the point of using words nobody else knows or can say comfortably? I just don't understand that.

I love my mom. And this time, I told her I loved her. And she told me she loved me, too. And things were okay for a little while.

I was in my bed trying to figure out why sometimes you can wake up and go back to sleep and other times you can't

I was looking at the photographs and I started thinking that there was a time when these weren't memories.

Something really is wrong with me. And I don't know what it is.

Harold and Maude' was a seminal movie for me because it's not only a beautiful love story, but it's also about the moment when misfits find each other.