No one else knows I'm alive, which means they won't notice when I'm gone.

...the man of my dreams is a girl.

I may be fat and ugly, but I'm not stupid. If anyone had ever gotten past my looks, they might've noticed I have a brain.

I knew right then and there nothing was ever going to change. It wouldn't matter if I was tall or short or fat or thin or absent every day. I was a loser from birth.

This is my vision-what I imagine I'll pass through on my way to the light. The blue sky, the clouds, the rays of light.

I'm scared. What will tomorrow bring? It has to be better than today. It has to.

I've never been afraid of the dark. I'm more afraid of the day, of people. I love the night. The solitude. Well, I don't love it. I don't feel love. I hate people, so I hope when I get there it isn't crowded. I hope the light is a momentary phenomenon and the other side is completely black. And silent.