Everything Always Gets Crazy At The End.

Grieving Doesn't Make You Imperfect. It Makes You Human.

I Really Just Love To Read, Period, Whether It Be Books Or Magazines Or The Back Of The Cereal Box. It's The One Thing I Can Always Count On To Calm Me Down, Take Me Away And Inspire Me, All At Once.

And So We Stood There In The Kitchen, My Mother And I, Facing Off Over Everything That Had Built Up Since June, When I Was Willing To Hand Myself Over Free And Clear. Now I Needed Her To Return It All To Me, With The Faith That I Could Make My Own Way.

Everything Hurt. I Closed My Eyes, Pressing My Cheek To The Street, And Waited. What For, I Didn't Know. To Be Rescued. Or Found. But No One Came. All I'd Ever Thought I Wanted Was To Be Left Alone. Until I Was.

It's True. It's Like The Hidden Secret That No One Tells You. We Can All Be Beautiful Girls, Colie. It's So Easy. It's Like Dorothy Clicking Her Heels To Go Home. You Could Do It All Along.