I tore up and ate my own passport in an airport hotel once. I'm bloated with language I can’t afford to forget.

Two people who were once very close can without blame or grand betrayal become strangers. Perhaps this is the saddest thing in the world.

Document the moments you feel most in love with yourself - what you're wearing, who you're around, what you're doing. Recreate and repeat.

I belong deeply to myself.

When I love, I love: wholly, thoroughly, completely, drowning in everything. Every glance can be a conversation, eyes just playing and saying what needs to be said. Silence is loud, and the air becomes heavy. I want you. I want all of you.

You are terrifying, and strange, and beautiful. Something not everyone knows how to love.

I tore up and ate my own passport in an airport hotel once. I'm bloated with language I can’t afford to forget.