Going to pieces. To go to pieces so pointlessly and unnecessarily.

The dream reveals the reality which conception lags behind. That is the horror of life-the terror of art.

If this is what you came for, then I didn't send for you. Kafka (note to himself in journal)

There was once a community of scoundrels, that is to say, they were not scoundrels, but ordinary people.

By imposing too great a responsibility, or rather, all responsibility, on yourself, you crush yourself.

My peers, lately, have found companionship through means of intoxication - it makes them sociable. I, however, cannot force myself to use drugs to cheat on my loneliness - it is all that I have - and when the drugs and alcohol dissipate, will be all that my peers have as well.

I’m tired, can’t think of anything and want only to lay my face in your lap, feel your hand on my head and remain like that through all eternity.