There's no good way to die, you know? No way I've seen, anyway. It all ends with tubes and bedpans and IVs and I just-- smoking gets me out of there. Gets me outside, gets me away from all the--" "Sick people?" I say, and she shakes her head. "Away from my life.

I felt nothing all the time, and it had started to feel normal. It should have scared me, but it didn't.

Look at me. We aren´t them lauren. You´re not your mother or father any more than I´m my mother. You´re you and I´m me and I love you.

the thing is you can get used to anything you think you cant you want to die but you dont you cant you just are

It could be enough, maybe, or at least a start, but the problem is that at night I tumble into dreams that aren't dreams at all. I tumble into memories and wake up aching for a dying world and a quiet, cold life that offered me nothing but sitting in a still room.

And yet here I am. Broken and bleeding on the inside, heartsick, I am here.

I want to lie down on the bench then, or better yet, on the grass, rest on something living and see if I can hear the dead underneath.