I can't believe that I changed so little. I expected to look old and hollow and gray, but I guess it's only me on the inside that has shriveled and deteriorated.

I bet the pill is harder to get than drugs--which shows how screwed up this world really is!

I'm not really sure which parts of myself are real and which parts are things I've gotten from books.

Why is life so difficult? Why can't we be just ourselves and have everyone accept us the way we are?

It's a good thing most people bleed on the inside or this would be a gory, blood-smeared earth.

My biggest mistake: not wanting to help myself into thinking I am happy, that change would come about without really trying to change, or wanting to change. Procrastinating about changing. I do want to change.

Nobody's talking to me, but nobody's hassling me either. I guess you can't have everything.