Being sick feels like you're wearing someone else's glasses.
I want to pull very long, multi-colored strings out of my brain and place them next to a bowl of Doritos at a party
I could never be a sports writer, unless my assignment was to write 'sports sports sports sports sports' for three pages.
If someone asks me where I bought something I’m wearing, I will usually say I don’t remember.
I can't believe food costs money.
Something was comforting about strangers—it seemed like they would exist forever as the same, unknowable mass.
Feel completely unable to do anything. Try to picture your life in five years. It really seems like you will be dead.
