Dear God, Teach Me To Be Careless.

I Began To Enjoy My Own Generosity; I Felt The Pleasure Of Pleasing Others, Especially As This Was Accompanied By Money-power. I Was Paying For Them; They Were Grateful, They Had To Be; And They Could No Longer See Me As A Failure.

I'm Interested In Philosophical Psychology, People Like Nietzsche, Freud, Alcan, Foucault, Derrida.

One Would Hope, As Well That Intimacy Would Leave More Of A Mark, That More Of It Would Remain. But It Doesn’t. You Just End Up Thinking, Who Is This Person?

...i Love 'yes.' It's Practically The Most Interesting Word Of All, Don't You Think?" Like A Hinge Opening A Door Outward. Yes, Yes, Yes.

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.