I start to get the feeling that something is really wrong.

Everything's plastic, we're all going to die sooner or later, so what does it matter.

And I want out of this life on drugs.

Taking a hypersensitive approach to life had come to seem so much more pure and honest then joining the ranks of the numb masses who could let it all slide by. What I stopped realizing was that if you feel everything intensely, ultimately you feel nothing at all. Everything registers at the same decibel.

In my case, I was not frightened in the least bit at the thought that I might live because I was certain, quite certain, that I was already dead.

You know you've completely descended into madness when the matter of shampoo has ascended to philosophical heights.

That is all I want in life: for this pain to seem purposeful.