When The Police Came, They

I Just Listened To The Music, And Breathed In The Day, And Remembered Things. Things Like Walking Around The Neighborhood And Looking At The Houses And The Lawns And The Colorful Trees And Having That Be Enough.

When I Was Driving Home, I Just Thought About The Word 'special'. And I Thought The Last Person Who Said That About Me Was My Aunt Helen. I Was Very Grateful To Have Heard It Again. Because I Guess We All Forget Sometimes. And I Think Everyone Is Special In Their Own Way. I Really Do.

Music Is A Vital Part Of My Life, And It Has Been Since I Was A Kid. It Helped Me Find My Identity As A Person, It Helped Me Find My Identity As An Artist, And It Helped Me Get In Touch With Emotions That I Didn't Know I Had.

This Moment Will Just Be Another Story Someday.

I Just Wish That God Or My Parents Or Sam Or My Sister Or Someone Would Just Tell Me What's Wrong With Me. Just Tell Me How To Be Different In A Way That Makes Sense. To Make This All Go Away.