Oh my god.

Isla Vista can you shut up for like one second.

I really need to stop being a brat.

One day it's going to bite me in the ass.

Sophomore year is over.

Give me my summer.

Hurry up, kiddo.

Eighteen is too far away.

Was already feeling it.

Then I found out you're a dancer. Attraction skyrocketing.

Square one.

Now that it's done, I can go back to feeling. To tasting, to touching, to living. I'm back where I started, but this feels nothing like failure. I walk into the void, guiltless and fearless. This is exciting, this is delicious.

There is nothing like this. There's nothing holding me back now.

Every damn time.

"The girl who reads has spun out the account of her life and it is bursting with meaning. She insists that her narratives be rich, her supporting cast colorful, and her typeface bold. You, the girl who reads, make me want to be everything that I am not. But I am weak and I will fail you, because you have already dreamed, properly, of a man who is better than I am."

What I do to people.