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

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

How is it possible for me to be so miserable and embarrassed and humiliated and beaten an function still talk and smile and concentrate?

I’ve got to sleep. Sleep is my only way to escape.

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.

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

I wouldn't intentionally hurt anyone in this whole world. I wouldn't hurt them physically or emotionally, how then can people so consistently do it to me? Even my parents treat me like I'm stupid and inferior and ever short. I guess I'll never measure up to anyone's expectations. I surely don't measure up to what I'd like to be.