The Clock Always Ticks. There

It Is Its Own Form Of Conversation -- You Can Learn A Lot About People From The Stories They Tell, But You Can Also Know Them From The Way They Sing Along, Whether They Like The Windows Up Or Down, If They Live By The Map Or By The World, If They Feel The Pull Of The Ocean.

Why Do We Even Bother? Why Do We Make Ourselves So Open To Such Easy Damage? Is It All Loneliness? Is It All Fear? Or Is It Just To Experience Those Narcotic Moments Of Belonging With Someone Else?

Self-esteem Can Be So Exhausting. I Want To Cut My Hair, Change My Clothes, Erase The Pimple From The Near-tip Of My Nose, And Strengthen My Upper-arm Definition, All In The Next Hour.

You Were In Sweden?" Boomer Asked. "no," I Said. "the Trip Got Called Off At The Last Minute. Because Of Political The Unrest" "in Sweden?" Priya Seemed Skeptical. "yeah-isn't It Strange How The Times Isn't Covering It? Half The Country's On Strike Because Of That Thing The Crown Prince Said About Pippi Longstocking Which Means No Meatballs For Christmas, If You Know What I Mean." "that's So Sad!" Boomer Said.

Ignorance Is Not Bliss. Bliss Is Knowing The Full Meaning Of What You Have Been Given.