I Always Pushed Myself. Whenever

I Had A Million Plans. I Knew What I Was Going To Do. I Had The Next Few Years Of My Life All Figured Out. But What I Didn’t Know Was That Within A Few Hours All Those Plans Would Change. Ms. Know-it-all Didn’t Quite Know It All So Much Then.

The First Day Of The Rest Of My Life, And I’m Not Sure I Want To Be Here. I Know I Should Be Thanking Somebody For This, But I Really Don’t Feel Like It. Instead, I Wish They Hadn’t Bothered.

I Write My Novels Longhand. I Love The Feeling Of Writing; I Love To See Pen On Paper. It Feels More Creative Than Typing, And It's A More Visual Process For Me - I Can Picture The Entire Scene In My Head And Am Merely Writing What I See.

Hundreds Of Butts In Piles On The Ground To Mark The Spot, Their Lives Sucked Out Of Them By Their Users In Panicked Distressed Frenzy, Their Souls Floating Around The Insides Of Lungs While Their Outsides Were Dropped, Stamped On And Deserted

Life's Kind Of Like A Painting. A Really Bizarre, Abstract Painting. You Could Look At It And Think That All It Is, Is A Blur. And You Could Continue Living Your Life Thinking That All It Is, Is Just A Blur. But If You Really Look At It, Really See It, Focus On It, And Use Your Imagination, Life Can Become So Much More. The Painting Could Be Of The Sea, The Sky, People,buildings, A Butterfly On A Flower, Or Anything Except The Blur You Were Once Convinced It Was.