I Think A Neurotic Learns From Their

There Is That Doll Dress-up Quality Of Adorable Teenage Girl Writer, And I Never Felt Either As Adorable As I Was Supposed To Be, Or As Dark As The Rumors, You Know, "she Must Have Slept With The Editor," And I Was Like, "oh My God, I'm Still A Virgin." It Was Very Strange.

I Think That's The Function Of A Lot Of Psychiatrists And Therapists, Is Keeping People Afloat Just Long Enough For Them To Get Older.

I'm Not Crazy Or Dangerous, Just A Bit Eccentric And Lonely.

Time Heals All Wounds. And If It Doesn't, You Name Them Something Other Than Wounds And Agree To Let Them Stay.

Are You Mine?” Yes. “are You Mine?” Yes. “are You Mine?” No. “no?” No. I Loved Being Yours. But Now I’m Mine, Which Is All I Ever Was, In The End.