What An Absurd Amount Of Energy I

Don't Strive For Love, Be It.

Before, I Thought I Was Actually Fighting For My Own Self-worth; That Is Why I So Desperately Wanted People To Like Me. I Thought Their Liking Me Was A Comment On Me, But It Was A Comment On Them.

Don't Fight A Fact, Deal With It.

If The Desire To Write Is Not Accompanied By Actual Writing, Then The Desire Must Be Not To Write.

Perfectionism Is Slow Death.