I should be a success and I’m not and other people- younger people- are. Younger people than me are on TV and getting their lives in order. I’m still a nobody. When am I going to not be a nobody?
I’ve had good moments scattered since then, times when I thought I was better, but that was the last day I felt triumphant.
Some days I woke up and got out of bed and brushed my teeth like any normal human being; some days I woke up and laid in bed and looked at the ceiling and wondered what the hell the point was of getting out of bed and brushing my teeth like any normal human being.
It’s such a silly little thing, the heart.
Nobody had told me I was common.
I didn’t want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. And that’s really sad.
Of course I wasn’t abused. If I were; things would be so simple. I’d have a reason to for being in a shrinks office. I’d have a justification and something to work on. The world wasn’t going to give me something that tidy.
Relationships change even more than people. It’s like two people changing. It’s exponentially more volatile. Especially two teenagers.
A working brain is probably a lot like a map, where anybody can get from one place to another on the freeways. It’s the nonworking brains that get blocked, that have dead ends, that are under construction like mine.
I want my brain to slide back into the slot it was meant to be in, rest there the way it did before the fall of last year, back when I was young, witty, and my teachers said I had incredible promise.
Putting lessons in young adult books is very dangerous.
A lot of the books that I grew up reading were pretty brutal, like the Redwall books.
That’s the number one thing I hear about humans. You have all these choices, so you’re confused all the time, and you think so much that you’re never happy.
Misfortune is no excuse for cruelty.
Time is a person-made concept.
I feel dead, wasted, awful, broken and useless. It’s not the kind of feeling you forget.
One thing I’ve learnt recently: how to think nothing. Here’s the trick: don’t have any interest in the world around you, don’t have any hope for the future, and be warm.
We wear our problems diffrently.
That’s what gets me through the day. Knowing that I could do it. That I’m strong enough to do it and I can get it done.
I found myself jealous of the people who wrote the books. They were dead and they were still taking up my time. Who did they think they were?