These Days I Don't Know Who Really

I Don't Want To Make This Sound Negative At All, But In The Best Way Possible I Freaking Give Up. I Give Up. You Can't Try And Make Your Life Perfect. I'm Just Trying To Have A Good Time, And I'm Just Trying To Appreciate The Things That I Have Around Me. I Give Up On The 'dream' Dream. I Think That It's All A Dream. I Think It's All Wonderful And Terrible. And I Give Up In The Nicest Way.

I Wouldn't Know What To Do With Another Chance If You Gave It To Me.

I Really, Really Enjoy Fitting Words Together - But I Only Enjoy It When It's Easy, When It Sort Of Rolls Along By Itself. I Never Erase Anything [and] I Hardly Ever Write Anything Down... The Song Will Be Finished Before I Write It Down... I Won't Write A Song Unless It Serves Me In Some Way, Unless I Feel I Have To Write The Song To Make Myself Feel Better. If You're Not Overflowing With Something, There's Nothing To Give.

When I Was A Kid--10, 11, 12, 13--the Thing I Wanted Most In The World Was A Best Friend. I Wanted To Be Important To People; To Have People That Understood Me. I Wanted To Just Be Close To Somebody. And Back Then, A Thought Would Go Through My Head Almost Constantly: "there's Never Gonna Be A Room Someplace Where There's A Group Of People Sitting Around, Having Fun, Hanging Out, Where One Of Them Goes, 'you Know What Would Be Great? We Should Call Fiona. Yeah, That Would Be Good.' That'll Never Happen. There's Nothing Interesting About Me." I Just Felt Like I Was A Sad Little Boring Thing.

I'm A Tulip In A Cup. I Stand No Chance Of Growing Up