And Silence, Like Darkness, Can Be Kind;

These Days Everyone Was Insisting On Their Identity, Coming Out As A Man, Woman, Gay, Black, Jew - Brandishing Whichever Features They Could Claim, As If Without A Tag They Wouldn’t Be Human.

All The Same, My Depression And Self-hatred, My Desire To Mutilate Myself With Broken Bottles, My Numbness And Crying Fits, My Inability To Get Out Of Bed For Days And Days, The Feeling Of The World Moving In To Crush Me, Went On And On. But I Knew I Wouldn't Go Mad, Even If That Release, That Letting-go, Was A Freedom I Desired. I Was Waiting For Myself To Heal.

I've Never Had Any Desire To Be Good. I Don't Like Goodness Particularly.

How Disturbing It Is That Our Illusions Are Often Our Most Important Beliefs.

My Pleasures Disappeared With My Vices.