It's Just Hard To See A Friend

Sam Has Brown Hair And Very, Very Pretty Green Eyes. The Kind Of Green That Doesn't Make A Big Deal About Itself.

I Just Wish That God Or My Parents Or Sam Or My Sister Or Someone Would Just Tell Me What's Wrong With Me. Just Tell Me How To Be Different In A Way That Makes Sense. To Make This All Go Away.

Most Of The People I Know Who Were Raised To Be Accommodating Or Were Raised To Just Be Nice And Put Everybody's Needs Ahead Of Theirs, There Comes A Moment When The Pressure Builds And They Can't Do It Anymore. They Have Needs And They Feel Neglected And They Usually Explode.

It's Strange The Times People Choose To Be Generous.

I Think On My Next Birthday, I'm Going To Buy Her A Present. I Think That Should Be The Tradition. The Kid Gets Gifts From Everybody, And He Buys One Present For His Mom Since She Was There, Too. I Think That Would Be Nice.