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

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

The voice of every kid hooked on drugs, alcohol or the occult joins the sad chorus "Not me! I didn't think it could ever happen to me. I was sure I could handle it.

I'm partly somebody else trying to fit in and say the right things and do the right thing and be in the right place and wear what everybody else is wearing. Sometimes I think we're all trying to be shadows of each other, trying to buy the same records and everything even if we don't like them. Kids are like robots, off an assembly line, and I don't want to be a robot!

The complete bottom has fallen out of my life.

They don’t think “I care,” “I hurt,” or “I have feelings.” It just seems like I’m always “wrong,” always “selfish,” always “self-centered” and everything else that’s negative and destructive.

I’m really cracking. No, I’m beyond cracking. I’m shattered. I’m lost. I’m fragmented.