Catharsis makes me stupid. I don't wanna be pretentious or silly or immature, but I can't help it. All roads lead to hurt. All roads lead to self-hate.

I'm not trying to be a poet, or an attention lover. I just want to put my head into words, but I'm so dumb that sometimes I can't even do that.

There are some places it'll never snow, some ways the wind'll never blow.

Sometimes I miss my dad. I remember one time he took me with him on a trip to Austin for some reason. In our hotel room he let me try on his cologne. I was about 11. It's moments like those that I miss, moments that are nice. I wish my life had more nice moments: they've been missing lately.

Is painting the art or is the picture>

I love waking up to a text message: what a great feeling it is to wake up knowing you were in someone's mind?