people often tell me i'm strange. people often tell me things like, 'if you stare at that lightbulb for too long you'll go blind.' but i know that they're wrong. and i know that a butterfly can make a huge impact on the entire planet, just as well as i know that when you blink your eyelashes flutter on your cheeks and cast shadows that are beautifully intricate.

you told me that you hate when i'm sad because when i'm sad i write too much, when i'm sad i say stupid things and when i'm sad i'm selfish.

i liked to write stories about people who weren't me. i liked to write things that made no sense, that were beautiful, that were complex. i liked to sit outside in parks at night and watch moths and fireflies co-mingle.

i like to pretend i'm someone else. i like to pretend i'm poetic. but really, deep down, i'm just like everyone else.

i hate fakes, but there isn't an ounce of realism in me. and i guess that's okay, as long as i can go on making everyone else believe i'm different.

you do think i'm different, don't you?