For six months I couldn't sleep. With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy.

She's so thin she's either dying or rich.

Stop the excessive shopping and masturbation. Quit your job. Start a fight. Prove you're alive. If you don't claim your humanity, you will become a statistic.

By the time you're thirty, your worst enemy is yourself.

I'm always identifying some fallacy in my own life. I'm sort of making fun of myself by exploring and unpacking just why I'm sort of automatically thrown to be a certain way.

I still love him so much I'll hide any amount of conjugated estrogen in his food. So much I'll do anything to destroy him.

This is our world now, and those ancient people are dead.