I don't owe people anything, and I don't have to talk to them any more than I feel I need to.

I just want to not be me.

What am I always going to do? I'm going to go home and freak out.I'm going to sit with my family and try not to talk about myself and what's wrong. Im going to try and eat. Then I'm going to try and sleep. I dread it. I can't eat and I can't sleep. I'm not doing well in terms of being a functional human, you know?

I owe her everything and I love her and I tell her these days, although every time I say it, it gets a little diluted. I think you run out of I love yous.

Misfortune is no excuse for cruelty.

They're sort of ancillary anyway, friends. I mean, they're important -- everybody knows that; the TV tells you so -- but they come and go. You lose one friend, you pick up another.

The Shift hasn't happened yet, maybe it never will, but sometimes-just enough times to give me hope-my brain jars back into where it's supposed to be.