We are

It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.

- Tyler Durden, Fight Club

Won't you.

No matter how hard I hit, you'll always hit me harder.

Won't you?

--

No matter how many pills I take, I'll never fall asleep.

No matter how many words I read inside my head, I'll never write them down. Not anymore.

No matter how many times I tell myself that I'm okay, I'll always realize just how much I am not okay.

No matter how many times I cry, new tears will always pour out.

And at the bottom of it all...

No matter how many times I smile, I'll always be chewed up from the inside. And nothing will ever feel right again - ever.

Account

It's 3 a.m., I must be lonely.

Except that I am. And exactly a year ago today, I was not lonely. Not at all. I was as close as I ever was before - to anyone.

But today I am lonely.

I am drinking a bottle of wine by myself.

I am embracing papercuts, bitten-down nails, split-ended hairs and runny mascara. I am embracing the me that wreaks havoc inside my brain. I am embracing cigarette butts inside my chest, I am embracing forgotten moments and meaningless conversations.

I am embracing being normal, I am embracing drawings on bathroom tiles when it gets foggy. I am embracing slips and I am embracing wounds.

I am embracing loneliness and I am embracing freedom. I am embracing myself and I am embracing alienation from the person I think I am. I am embracing the world and leaving myself behind. I am never letting go.

I am never crying again.

I am stronger than anyone else I know.

and weaker than myself

Air

...

It's terrible to feel like a floating head on a string.

Win

THIS IS SO AWESOME.

Just when I thought my life was falling apart, I completely surpassed my wildest expectations.

This is a night for smiling, even if there's a hint of blood on my teeth.

Wow... this was a hard kick. Right between my already broken ribs.

I don't know what will come of this.

I am lonely once again.

Slow

''She was compelled by a confessional fever which forced her into lifting a corner of the veil and then frightened her when anyone listened too attentively.''

- Anais Nin, A Spy in the House of Love

...

This was a book I deeply enjoyed reading, not so much for the content itself as for the pure aesthicity (if this is, indeed, a word) of the writing.

Also, I've noticed that my bookshelf is slowly giving in to the weight of the books.

As much as I like the thought of this, scattered books and broken wood do not excite me enough to be willing to see it happen.

I guess.