I Want To Be Happy. I Want

I Suppose I'm Happy To Sell My Time And Energy, But I'm Not Happy To Sell My Initial Creative Time.

I Crave Intimacy To The Same Burning Degree That I Detest Commitment.

I Hate Being Ignored.

When I Find Myself Having To Share A Meal With Someone Who Simply Wants To Complain About The World, I Almost Feel Myself Wanting To Crawl Out Of My Skin And Just Sort Of Scurry Away. But Being Able To Pick Up On That Stuff And Being Able To Easily Identify The People Walking Towards The Light Instead Of Walking Towards The Darkness, That's A Skill I'm Very, Very Glad To See Growing In Myself.

Nothing Is Crueller Than Children Who Come From Good Homes.