So what's the point of using words nobody else knows or can say comfortably? I just don't understand that.
I don't know what's wrong with me. It's like all I can do is keep writing this gibberish to keep from breaking apart.
I didn't know that other people thought things about me. I didn't know that they looked.
After a few minutes, it was time for me to leave. I don't know who decides these things. It just happens.
I would give someone a record so they could love the record, not so they would always know that I gave it to them.
Something really is wrong with me. And I don't know what it is.
I don't know if it's better to be close with your daughter or make sure that she has a better life than you do.
I don't know how much longer I can keep going without a friend. I used to be able to do it very easily, but that was before I knew what having a friend was like.
And she looked at me like she couldn't believe I knew she loved Anne Rice. I guess he didn't know how much she talked or how much I listened.
Have you ever done that? You feel really bad, and then it goes away, and you don’t know why.