Sorry, Mom. Sorry, God.

The Worst Part Of Writing Fiction Is The Fear Of Wasting Your Life Behind A Keyboard. The Idea That, Dying, You'll Realize You Only Lived On Paper. Your Only Adventures Were Make-believe, And While The World Fought And Kissed, You Sat In Some Dark Room Masturbating And Making Money.

The Moment The World Declares A Person To Be Immortal, At That Moment The Person Will Strive To Prove The World Wrong. In The Face Of Glowing Press Releases And Reviews The Most Heralded Women Starve Themselves Or Cut Themselves Or Poison Themselves. Or They Find A Man Who's Happy To Do That For Him.

...no Way Could I Fall In Love. I Just Couldn't Go There Yet. Settle For Less. I Didn't Want To Process Through Anything. I Didn't Want To Pick Up Any Pieces. Lower My Expectations.

I'm Sorry If This All Seems A Little Rushed And Desperate. It Is.

The Only Person We'll Hate More Than Each Other Is Ourselves.