Only other people can make you feel real.

So are you an inmate or a rubbernecker?" she asks. "Rubbernecker," I answer without hesitation. "You?" "I'm a screw. Or on staff, anyway. Used to be an inmate. Repeat offender. Crimes against my body. Puking sickness followed by heroin, which led to more puking sickness." I'd be surprised at her forthrightness, but that's addicts for you. The twelve steps crack 'em open and then they can't shut up.

Shakespeare would have it wrong these days. It's not the world that's the stage - it's social media, where you're trying to put on a show. The rest of your life is rehearsals, prepping in the wings to be fabulous online.

Only other people can make you feel real.

The problem with snapshots is that they replace actual memories. You lock down the moment and it becomes all there is of it.

There are only so many plots in the world. It's how they unfold that makes them interesting.

Fashion is only different skins for different flavours of you.