You Know, I'd Get A

I Feel Such A Tenderness For These Vulnerable Nighttime Conversations, The Way Words Take A Different Shape In The Air When There's No Light In The Room.

Why Is It So Much Easier To Talk To A Stranger? Why Do We Feel We Need To Disconnect In Order To Connect? If I Wrote "dear Sofia" Or "dear Boomer" Or "dear Lily's Great-aunt" At The Top Of This Postcard, Wouldn't That Change The Words That Followed? Of Course It Would. But The Question Is: When I Wrote "dear Lily," Was That Just A Version Of "dear Myself"? I Know It Was More Than That. But It Was Also Less Than That, Too

I Am Proud That I Defy Your Categories. I Am Proud That I Don't Fit Easily Into Any Box. I Am Proud Of All The Things I Am And All The Things I Can Be. Question Yourself Every Time You Think You Only See One Thing In Me.

It Feels Like I Am Wasting Time. I Mean, That's Always The Case. My Life Doesn't Add Up To Anything.

You Made Me Lose My Appetite, Boomer." "my Mom Tells Me That All The Time. Your Family Must Be Just Like Mine!