I Like The Cuts - They Comfort

This Boy Has Negative Charisma. He Walks Into A Room And The Oxygen Starts To Evaporate. I Guess That's Why Girls Sleep With Him. They Find His Awfulness Transfixing. He's Like A Lousy 1970's Disaster Movie That They Can't Bring Themselves To Turn Off, Even Though It Is Making Their Life Worse Every Minute They Leave It On.

There's So Much Guilt There Attached To Having A Perfectly Good Life.

It Is Madness. And If You Don't Know Who You Are, Or If Your Real Self Has Drifted Away From You With The Undertow, Madness At Least Gives You An Identity. It's The Same With Self-loathing. You're Probably Just Normal And Normal-looking But That's Not A Real Identity, Not The Way Ugliness Is. Normality, Just Accepting That You're Probably Normal-looking, Lacks The Force Field Of Self-disgust. If You Don't Know Who You Are, Madness Gives You Something To Believe In.

The Truth Is I Have Had, For Whatever Reason, Several Movie-star Boyfriends.

A Lot Of The Time In My Recurring Dreams, Before I Was Diagnosed, Iconic People Would Either Be Good Or Evil Figures. I Remember Dreaming Really Basic Stuff Like Trying To Navigate The London Underground, But Then Paul Newman Would Be The Only One Who Would Direct Me To The Right Trains. And I'm Trying To Remember Who Would Direct Me To The Wrong Ones.