If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell.

The floor seemed wonderfully solid. It was comforting to know I had fallen and could fall no farther.

And there's the fallacy of existence: the idea that one could be happy forever and age with a given situation or series of accomplishments.

The frost makes a flower, the dew makes a star.

I wish to cry. Yet, I laugh, and my lipstick leaves a red stain like a bloody crescent moon on top of the beer can

If there's anything I look down on, it's a man in a blue outfit.

Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little?