I wonder if any of them can tell from just looking at me that all I am is the sum total of my pain, a raw woundedness so extreme that it might be terminal. It might be terminal velocity, the speed of the sound of a girl falling down to a place from where she can't be retrieved. What if I am stuck down here for good?

Everything's plastic, we're all gonna die.

The measure of mindfulness, the touchstone for sanity in this society, is our level of productivity, our attention to responsibility, our ability to plain and simple hold down a job.

Sometimes I wish that there were a way to let people know that just because I live in a world without rules, and in a life that is lawless, doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt so bad the morning after.

It was just very interesting to me that certain types of women inspire people's imagination, and all of them were very difficult women.

If you are chronically down, it is a lifelong fight to keep from sinking

...All I want to talk about is the oncoming apocalypse in my brain.