I don’t think people understand how stressful it is to explain what’s going on in your head when you don’t even understand it yourself.
What are the chances of seeing the Norwegian woman who hit on you at the bar last night in Central Park the next day?
(Apparently pretty high)
…I renamed myself Ari.
If I switched the letters, my name was Air.
I thought it might be a great thing to be the air.
I could be something and nothing at the same time.
I could be necessary and also invisible.
Everyone would need me and no one would be able to see me.
by Benjamin Alire Saenz