Then I place the blade next to the skine on my palm. A tingle arced across my scalp. The flood tipped up at me and my body spiraled away. Then I was on the ceiling looking down, waiting to see what would happen next. What happened next was thet a perfect, straight line of blood bloomed from under the blade.The line grow into a long, Fat bubbel, A lush crimson bubbel that got bigger and bigger. I watch from above, waiting to see how big it would get before it burst. when it did, I felt awesome. Satisfied, finally. Then exhausted.

Trying to remember, I have learned, is like trying to clutch a handful of fog. Trying to forget, like trying to hold back the monsoon.

Guard the portals of your mind.

If you look hard enough, chaos turns into order the way letters turn into words.

Look. I have a strategy. Why expect anything? If you don’t expect anything, you don’t get disappointed.

This affliction--hope--is so cruel and stubborn, I believe it will kill me

Simply to endure is to triumph.