Ravenlight

During school: "What day is it?"

"Monday February 10th, 2013 11:58 Eastern Standard time".

Summer: "What day is it?"

"Probably July"

Writing a story is much like giving birth.
First the idea wells up inside of you, the plot kicking with purpose until it's time to deliver. Each chapter is just another painful contraction and you'll curse and cry the whole way through, screaming out profanities to your loved ones until finally it's all over and a smile breaks out because this little book has ten fingers and toes and it is all yours.

my cousin asked me what my favorite season was and i said “of what”

it’s frightening how long it took me to figure out what was wrong with that response    

single in the womb;

single til the tomb



 

I would honesty be an awful parent.

My kid would say "I don't want to go to school, I just want to sleep." and I would literally probably just get in bed with them and say "I feel you."



 

I can't go to parties because

I turn into a pumpkin at midnight



 

yeah I have a lot of zeros in

my bank account; $00.00



 

i would describe my lifestyle as

"please don't sit next to me on the bus"