I sometimes shock the people around me with how I see things. I come up with very unique solutions to things. As I can picture things in my mind and move them around to design and understand them.

I'm okay with who I am.You might not understand me. That's okay as I don't understand you.We can still be friends, we just have to accept our differences.

I am now a faded image of my former being, I let that persona go.I like myself for who I am and I choose to be, me.

I don't knowwhat I'm feeling. Existing like I'm on auto pilot.I've put my Armour on now. Limiting everything gettingin but also not letting anything out.

I can't speak anymore, I open my mouth but nothing comes out. So many things to say. I wonder if you really want to hear it anyway?Instead, I leave my heavy mind exploding with unfinished thoughts.

Everyday feels the same and yet I crave sameness.Part of me wants to run away and be free.I feel trapped in my life I've created to protect myself.

She had not been herself for weeks, yet no one noticed. She knew this feeling, it creeps up like sliding slowly into the darkness. Some days she clung on, other days she let herself slip further.

I find some things difficult to grasp. I need to be shown or taught a few different ways sometimes before I figure it out

Please don't obsess on the number of friends i have or don't have. I'll find my own way, it will be right for me.

I guess you were not my friend then, that's okay. I can see my true self, I can see yours, now. I guess that you did not look hard enough at mine. Or you would never have let me go.

She felt lost and misunderstood. She felt like she was drowning. Overwhelmed. Unaccepted. Alone.

Music is feelings in search of words.

Children are like fingers. No matter which finger you bite, it hurts.

There's something evil in me that loves evil and degradation--purity's black backside! That loves honesty with a horrid love; or why have I always gone seeking it at the liar's door?

The best place to find things: the public library.

Were she better or you sicker, then the stars would not be so terribly crossed, but it is the nature of the stars to cross.

As chefs, we cook to please people, to nourish people.

We belong to the One mastering God: you belong to the republic of playful gods.

No one has ever asked an actor, 'You're playing a strong-minded man.' We assume that men are strong-minded, or have opinions. But a strong-minded woman is a different animal.

A bad hunter chases. A good hunter waits.

Falsehood falsehood cures