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Then, I turned around and walked to my room and closed my door and put my head under my pillow and let the quiet put things where they are supposed to be.
Just finished reading Perks of Being A Wallflower. There’s so much to say about it.
But right now I keep thinking about how before I read the book I heard my friends talking about it. And how they kept saying to each other how they were wallflowers.
And I think they missed the point.
I’m halfway through Perks of Being a Wallflower.
I don’t think I’ve felt so much while reading a book. I wanted to cry. And maybe that’s pathetic and maybe you think I’m weird. But I don’t care.
