House burned down. Car stolen. Cat exploded. Did 1500 easy words, so all in all it was a pretty good day. -Neil Gaiman
I will keep writing...and burning stuff.
Because it's pretty!
I understood the word 'swoon'. It felt that way, like 'sweep' and 'moon' and 'woo', all those words smashed together in one word that stood for that feeling, right then.
I couldn’t make the pieces fit in my mind, about what I thought he was and what he did. But I knew I still loved him. I loved all the parts of him, even the ones I didn't understand.
I breathed in and out, perfume and smoke, perfume and smoke, and we lay like that for a long time, until I heard the seagulls crying, sadder than a funeral, and I knew it was almost morning.
Letting go. Everyone talks about it like it's the easiest thing. Unfurl your fingers one by one until your hand is open.
Sometimes you can only feel something by its absence. By the empty spaces it leaves behind.
You should be out stirring up trouble with your friends, not bothering with all them books you read. You know it's them books what make you talk funny.
I didn't like being alone. Being alone was slightly better than having to deal with people, that's all. Or so I'd convinced myself.