Some of the best art I've ever seen are people that don't even know how creatively they were constructed.

Some days I get tired of running and hiding. So I turn up the music and just dance with the ghosts instead.

I am the first one to tell myself to fuck off.

I'm just here for the grammar lessons.

Don't be afraid to follow small accounts. Once you were a small account and wanted followers.

That Mr. Clean commercial is disturbing. Should I buy his cleaner or put a dollar in his waistband? Is he only cleaning to pay for college?

*high fives the "Don't Walk" sign as I jaywalk across the street*

Man Cold Day Four: Still questioning my mortality; however, my incredible strength and will to live are pulling me through.

I just don't understand those that eat room service fully clothed.

People who fight a lot of demons will lose a battle sometimes. You can't change that. But you can help them mend and get strong again.

That point when your eyes are locked and you are afraid to breathe or even blink for fear of missing a moment. Oh I can paint, motherfucker.

It's only really a problem when sex, drugs, and rock n' roll won't solve it.

Of all the voices in my head, reason is the least persuasive.

I participate in the sarcastic and funny side of Twitter. If you think what I write is serious,go fuck yourself on over to the stupid side.

I just stalked and put a heart on every picture of every guy I follow. I wonder what spreadsheets and lists that will get me on? Heart on...

And then there are the ones that believe the flat earth theory... THIS IS EXACTLY WHY THE ALIENS FLY STRAIGHT THE FUCK PAST US! CAUSE FLAT!

Some days, just making it to the end of the day IS the goal.

A time machine, Lucy. For I need to go back fifty three years and make it all right. And somewhere a butterfly flaps its wings. All effect.