In School, Writing Was The Only Thing

Of Course It Hurts", She Grumbled, Tipping My Head Further Back. "life Sucks. Get Over It

You Just Looked..." She Said, Searching For The Word, "taken, You Know? Plus You Hardly Reacted To Wes. I Mean, You Did Alittle, But Nothing Like Most Girls. It Was A Little Swoon. Not A Sa-woon, You Know?" I Said, "sa-woon? Oh, Come On," She Said Shaking Her Head. "even A Blind Girl Could Tell He Is Amazing.

It’s Never Something Huge That Changes The Everything, But Instead The Tiniest Of Details, Irrevocably Tweaking The Balance Of The Universe While You’re Busy Focusing On The Big Picture.

I Was Actually Pretty Miserable In High School. I Couldn't Wait For It To Be Over. And When It Finally Was, I Remember Sitting At Graduation With All These Classmates Getting Nostalgic And Emotional Already And All I Could Think Was, "get Me Out Of Here. I Never Want To See You People Again." So It's Ironic That I Spend Half My Day Putting Myself Back There By Choice [while Writing].

I Was So Scared About Being Discovered, But Nobody Came. Nobody Heard. In My Own Ears, Though, My Sobs Sounded Primal And Scary, Like Something I Would Have Turned Off If I'd Been Able To.