"I tried being a man. I tried being a woman. I tried being gay. I tried being straight. And I just felt exhausted. I realized what was much more honest, is if I was just me. And all of those labels, all of those names…they’re just external ideals about who we should be, which I think is a sure-fire way to getting to unhappy. I think the only way we can feel content is if we let our emotions, our feelings and our internal ideals create our external reality."
When your friend writes your name, phone number, and the words, “Call me,” on the back of the receipt for the cute waiter who is not gay. Also, you live in a small conservative town and your family is very well known.
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine: There sleeps Titania sometime of the night, Lull’d in these flowers with dances and delight; And there the snake throws her enamell’d skin, Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in: And with the juice of this I’ll streak her eyes, And make her full of hateful fantasies. Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove: A sweet Athenian lady is in love With a disdainful youth: anoint his eyes; But do it when the next thing he espies May be the lady: thou shalt know the man By the Athenian garments he hath on. Effect it with some care, that he may prove More fond on her than she upon her love: And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.