And I could see this boy doing his homework and thinking about my sister naked. And I could see them holding hands at football games that they do not watch. And I could see this boy throwing up in the bushes at a party house. And I could see my sister putting up with it. And I felt very bad for both of them.

I don't know what's wrong with me. It's like all I can do is keep writing this gibberish to keep from breaking apart.

They are all my favourites. All of them.

I guess when you see somebody in the hallway or on the field or something, it's nice to know that they are a real person.

Maybe it's good to put things in perspective, but sometimes, I think that the only perspective is to really be there.

It’s much easier not to know things sometimes.

I feel like a big faker because I've been putting my life back together, and nobody knows.