So why am I depressed? That's the million-dollar question, baby, the Tootsie Roll question; not even the owl knows the answer to that one. I don't know either. All I know is the chronology.

I'm still a nobody, when am I not going to be a nobody?

I can't eat and I can't sleep. I'm not doing well in terms of being a functional human, you know?

It’s tough to get out of bed; I know that myself. You can lie there for an hour and a half without thinking anything, just worrying about what the day holds and knowing that you won’t be able to deal with it.

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

The Shift is coming. The Shift has to be coming. Because if you keep living like this you'll die.

I want my brain to slide back into the slot it was meant to be in, rest there the way it did before the fall of last year, back when I was young, witty, and my teachers said I had incredible promise.