If there's anything I look down on, it's a man in a blue outfit.
A terrible depression yesterday. Visions of my life petering out into a kind of soft-brained stupor from lack of use.
Please, I want so badly for the good things to happen.
O heart, such disorganization!
Spiderlike, I spin mirrors, Loyal to my image.
âĶI hate myself for not being able to go downstairs naturally and seek comfort in numbers. I hate myself for having to sit here and be torn between I know not what within me.