We Buy Balloons, We Let Them Go.

I Went To College In Vermont, And Then Stayed In The East Coast.

I Needed Something--the Distraction Of Another Life--to Alleviate Fear.

If I Want To Write A Movie, I'll Write A Screenplay, But If I Have An Idea For A Book, It's Something That I Think Can Only Be Done Novelistically.

But... What About Us? What About The Past?" She Asks Blankly. "the Past Isn't Real. It's Just A Dream," I Say. "don't Mention The Past.

That's How I Became The Damaged Party Boy Who Wandered Through The Wreckage, Blood Streaming From His Nose, Asking Questions That Never Required Answers. That's How I Became The Boy Who Never Understood How Anything Worked. That's How I Became The Boy Who Wouldn't Save A Friend. That's How I Became The Boy Who Couldn't Love The Girl.