Jamie Varon

This whole grown up life is HANDLED.

But, what’s the point of it all? When we become happy, we self-destruct, we light our lives on fire, we limit the amount of happy we can have in our lives regardless of how hard we’ve worked at it.

That moment when one of you blurts out “I love you” as if it’s a time bomb that had to go off at that exact moment.

You could literally watch paint dry and they’d be able to make it your Favorite Day.

Any clothing that is not stretchy is not welcomed on your person.

Your actual idea of torture would be if someone forced you to go to sleep before you were able to clean your kitchen.

Give her the openness and tools she needs to explore who she is, determine her own desires, and find her own footing in this world.

You are the most talkative person you’ve ever met.

Absolutely nothing in life has ever been or will ever be as important as your AOL screen name.

The way their fingertips seem to hold the nerve endings to your skin.

We remember heartbreak, falling in love, breakdowns, breakthroughs. Circumstances and situations, the people involved, fall by the wayside, because what’s most important is who we are, not what we are; how we lived, not what we did.

I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell know that I don’t want to live my life collecting grocery bills, errands, chores, and a bucket list of shit I never did.