I'm Not Nearly Smart Enough Or Imaginative

But I'm Not Ready To Stop Listening To The Screwed-up Inner Voice That's Been Ordering Me Around For A Lifetime. My Head Thinks It Can Kill Me... And Go On Living Without Me.

The Emotional Stakes A Memoirist Bets With Could Not Be Higher, And It's Physically Enervating. I Nap On A Daily Basis Like A Cross-country Trucker.

He Never Gave Up On Me, I Only Stopped Being Matriculated.

For Me, Everything's Too Much And Nothing's Enough.

I Get So Lonely Sometimes, I Could Put A Box On My Head And Mail Myself To A Stranger.