Standing in the line at the food court, I try to be myself. But I forget how I usually stand when I'm myself.

Maybe the package comes in a different shape than we originally thought it would.

No one is worth wasting a gorgeous weekend over.

Your life can end in a flash before you even have time to know it’s over. There is no safe. There is no control.

If I’d stopped believing that my life would eventually get better, I don’t think I would have survived high school.

But life’s never easy when you need it to be.

I'm trying to paint an underwater ocean scene. It's just not working. My queen angelfish is supposed to have these bright yellow eyes and electric-blue stripes along the edge of her fin. Instead, it looks like I'm trying to paint a fried egg with some blue bacon. Maybe I can pass it off as postmodern.