Here I am, a bundle of past recollections and future dreams, knotted up in a reasonably attractive bundle of flesh. I remember what this flesh has gone through; I dream of what it may go through.

It was my last act of love (first words to her mother in the hospital after her first major suicide attempt)

I love my rejection slips. They show me I try.

I talk to God but the sky is empty.

I may have made a straight A in physics, but I was panic-struck. Physics made me sick the whole time I learned it.

Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.

I think I am worthwhile just because I have optical nerves and can try to put down what they perceive. What a fool!