I don’t have music, Christ I wish I had music but all I have is words.

You’ll be all right. You’re strong. I know you’ll be okay because I like you and you can’t like someone who doesn’t like themself. The people I fear for are the ones who I don’t like because they hate themselves so much they won’t let anyone else like them either. But I do like you. I’ll miss you. And I know you’ll be okay.

No one survives life.

What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me? What have they done to me?

What I sometimes mistake for ecstasy is simply the absence of grief.

To create something beautiful about despair or out of a feeling of despair is for me the most hopeful life affirming thing a person can do

Embrace beautiful lies - the chronic insanity of the sane