It’s so easy to get demotivated, to let the inaction swallow you up.
“So, you’re pansexual and your partner is of the opposite sex. Are you still gay?”
Intentions don’t mean anything. Consequences do.
Check your privilege at the rainbow float.
Rehashing the same stuff with your girlfriends over and over again.
Every year, when I do my taxes, I play this game with myself: how much did my writing actually bring me?
Nobody can deny that post-traumatic stress disorder is complex.
It’s hard to choose time with yourself. It’s even harder when you just don’t like yourself very much.
Lying is so second nature to me that even years of therapy haven’t managed to break me of the habit.
Is this a porno? I mean, it has a title like a theme park, but then again, so does Game of Thrones, and you know there are people rubbing one out every time the dragon incinerates a village.