“I’m staring into chocolate eyes. although my brain is cloudedand I’m dizzy, I know enough to register that chocolate is theopposite of blue. I don’t want blue. Blue confuses me too much.Chocolate is straight-forward, easier to deal with.”

“As I brush my long, brown hair, the girl in the mirror with blue eyes too big for her head stares back at me. Wait...I don’t have blue eyes! Then I realize I haven’t been looking into the mirror. I’ve been staring at a poster of Kristen Stewart for five minutes. My own hair is actually fine.”

“When I come over the top of the dune I see the ocean and I feel like I’m seeing it for the first time.Today it’s blue, straight and simple. Raw blue.”

“I’m only 33% patriotic, because I don’t bleed red, white, and blue. I only bleed red. But I pee white and my balls are blue, so doesn’t that count for something?”

“I growl with frustration at my reflection in the mirror. Damn my hair – it’s fifty shades of fucked up. The situation I’m in is fifty shades of fucked up. I’m supposed to be studying for my finals; my roommate, Kathleen, should be the one fussing with her hair in front of the mirror right now. Instead, I’m trying to brush my hair into submission. Why is my hair so kinky? I need to stop sleeping with it wet, because it always ends up out of control. As I brush my long, brown hair, the girl in the mirror with blue eyes too big for her head stares back at me. Wait...I don’t have blue eyes! Then I realize I haven’t been looking into the mirror. I’ve been staring at a poster of Kristen Stewart for five minutes. My own hair is actually fine.”

“He's staring at me like he's never seen me before. I want to wash my soul in the bottomless blue of his eyes.”