On Friday Night, I Was

I Don't Know If You've Ever Felt Like That. That You Wanted To Sleep For Thousands Of Years. Or Just Not Exist.

I Don't Know The Significance Of This, But I Find It Very Interesting.

There's Nothing Like Deep Breaths After Laughing That Hard. Nothing In The World Like A Sore Stomach For The Right Reasons.

I Just Wish That God Or My Parents Or Sam Or My Sister Or Someone Would Just Tell Me What's Wrong With Me. Just Tell Me How To Be Different In A Way That Makes Sense. To Make This All Go Away.

The Gift From My Secret Santa Wasn't Anything Special. That Makes Me Sad. I Bet You Anything That Mary Elizabeth Is My Secret Santa Because Only She Would Give Me Socks.