okay, I’m cookie dough. I’m not done baking. I’m not finished becoming whatever the hell it is I’m gonna turn out to be. I make it through this, and the next thing, and the next thing, and… maybe one day I turn around and realize I’m ready. I’m cookies. and then, you know, if I want someone to eat— or enjoy warm, delicious cookie me, then, that’s fine. that’ll be then. when I’m done.
happy 20th anniversary ( march 10th, 1997 – may 20th, 2003 )
It began as a failure. Everything. My existence. I should recognize that. Accept it. For me, there’s no such thing as normalcy. My dead father appears and disappears at will. I talk to you, an invisible friend. I’d ask if you’re normal, but you never talk back.