The True Warrior Isn't Immune To Fear.

My Mother Says That Pain Is Hidden In Everyone You See. She Says Try To Imagine It Like Big Bunches Of Flowers That Everyone Is Carrying Around With Them. Think Of Your Pain Like A Big Bunch Of Red Roses, A Beautiful Thorn Necklace. Everyone Has One.

It's Not That I Literally Think I'm A Fearie. It's Just That I Feel So Different From Most People. And This Idea Of A Race Living Underground In Caverns, Spending All Their Days Dancing And Playing The Fiddle And Eating Flowers And Reciting Poetry And Sharing Their Dreams, That To Me Sounds Much More Real Than The Way People Live In This World, Hating And Fighting And Wanting And Hurting.

Everything Was Fine, But Weetzie Wanted A Baby. “how Could You Want One?” My Secret Agent Lover Man Said. “there Are Way Too Many Babies. And Diseases. And Nuclear Accidents. And Crazy Psychos. We Cant Have A Baby,” He Said.

My Heart Is A Teacup With Hairline Cracks. I Feel Like I Have To Walk Real Carefully So It Won't Get Shaken And Just All Shatter And Break.

I Try To See The Dark And Light In Everything. This Is My Way Of Comforting Myself When I Am Dealing With Those Emotions.