I saw other people there. Old men sitting alone. Young girls with blue eye shadow and awkward jaws. Little kids who looked tired. Fathers in nice coats who looked even more tired. Kids working behind counters of the food places who looked like they hadn’t had the will to live for hours. The machines kept opening and closing. The people kept giving money and getting their change. And it all felt very unsettlingly to me.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. I know other people have it a lot worse. I do know that, but it’s crashing in anyway...

Patrick said that the problem was that since everything has happened already, it makes it hard to break new ground.

But Mary Elizabeth felt different. She kept saying it was an “articulate” film. So “articulate.” And I guess it was. The thing is, I didn’t know what it said even if it said it very well.

I think you of all people are alive and appreciates what that means.

So, I said I thought the magazine was trying to make him a hero, but then later somebody might dig up something to make him seem like less than a person.

He realized that if he didn’t leave, it would never be his life. It would be theirs.

My dad and my brother and my cousins carry him out to the car of the person who is least angry at him.

Even monsters are adorable when they’re little.

I was in the shopping mall because that’s where I go lately. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been going there every day, trying to figure out why people go there. It’s kind of a personal project.