Sometimes when it looks like I'm deep in thought I'm just trying not to have a conversation with people.
As a kid, I always went to therapists; the first time was when my parents were separated on my sixth birthday, then on and off since then.
Everyones greatest fantasy is to walk away from the life (they think)you lead
These jeans looked so good on me when I looked in the mirror I wanted to fuck myself.
I'm gay above the waist.
Ghost towns filled with sad people who settled for what life offered them. The road unfurls before us. Everything is possible. I feel sick to my stomach.
The hardest thing about depression is that it is addictive. It begins to feel uncomfortable not to be depressed. You feel guilty for feeling happy.
You can live with me in this house I've built out of writers blocks.
With marriage and fatherhood, I've finally found two fixed points in my life. They've taught me patience. They've also taught me that I don't need to feel guilty about being happy. My emotional season...
He sharpened his flaws and disappointments into daggers.
We’re sick of hearing people say, “That band is so gay,” or “Those guys are fags.” Gay is not a synonym for shitty. If you wanna say something’s shitty, say it’s shitty. Stop being such homophobic ass...
Life is a deep and contemplative story stuck on repeat. love, loss, self-destruction, self-discovery
He felt like the last bullet in a gun meant for revenge, sealed with a kiss.
Fear owns me because I let it. Because I obsess over it, name it, raise it, and nurture it to become perfect. It is one of the few things in my life that I can control.
The stars crossed and The Boy wished he could have hung himself on them.
First he threw out all of his records, trashed his heart and then he went to sleep.
The silence is the worst part of any fight, because it's made up of all the things we wish we could say, if only we had the guts.
I wonder if killing yourself is the only thing you can control in your entire life, and that's why it's a sin. Because you're beating God at his own game.
He hugged her tight, mixing their tears to be bottled and fermented, so they could be drunk on each other when this was all over.
He sang “I wish I weren’t me” over and over again just flat of the key of love until he forgot the words and could only hum along. Everyday was the same. The same stupid smile on the same stupid boy....
