I Miss The Comfort In Being Sad.

If A Person Is Treated Like A Patient, They Are Apt To Act Like One.

I Wondered A Little Why God Was Such A Useless Thing. It Seemed A Waste Of Time To Have Him. After That He Became Less And Less, Until He Was... Nothingness.

I Used To Lie Between Cool, Clean Sheets At Night After I'd Had A Bath, After I Had Washed My Hair And Scrubbed My Knuckles And Finger-nails And Teeth. Then I Could Lie Quite Still In The Dark With My Face To The Window With The Trees In It, And Talk To God.

I Couldn't Get That Same Feeling During The Day, With My Hands In Dirty Dish Water And The Hard Sun Showing Up The Dirtiness On The Roof Tops. And After A Time, Even At Night, The Feeling Of God Didn't Last.

The More People Pointed At Me In Scorn The More Stubborn I Got And When They Began Calling Me The Bad Girl Of West Seattle High, I Tried To Live Up To It.