They Say A Story Loses Something With

I Always Pushed Myself. Whenever I Felt I Needed To Stop, I Made Myself Run Faster.

I'm Never Overwhelmed Or Under It Either; Just Nicely Whelmed. I'm Ok. Nothing Spectacular But Sometimes Special. I Look In The Mirror And See This Medium Average Person. A Little Tired, A Little Sad, But Not Falling Apart.

Every Small Thing Grows When You Nurture It, Rosie. Love Is Just The Same. But If That Is Making You Miserable Then, Leave And Find Something Else That Brings You Happiness You Deserve To Feel.

I Don't Know Why, But There's Always The Part Of You, The Part That Hides In The Shadows Protecting The Self-destruct Button, That Doesn't Ever Want To Leave The Dark Behind.

Why Do We Stop Believing In Ourselves? Why Do We Let Facts And Figures And Anything But Dreams Rule Our Lives?