...you Can Find People. It's Like Those

...i Feel As Though I Made A Face And The Wind Changed, And Now I Have To Go Through Life Grimacing In This Horrible Way.

Most People Get Suicide, I Guess; Most People, Even If It's Hidden Deep Down Inside Somewhere, Can Remember A Time In Their Lives When They Thought About Whether They Really Wanted To Wake Up The Next Day. Wanting To Die Seems Like It Might Be A Part Of Being Alive.

We Had No Irony When It Came To Girls, Though. There Was Just No Time To Develop It. One Moment They Weren't There, Not In Any Form That Interested Us, Anyway, And The Next You Couldn't Miss Them; They Were Everywhere, All Over The Place. One Moment You Wanted To Clonk Them On The Head For Being Your Sister, Or Someone Else's Sister, And The Next You Wanted To....actually, We Didn't Know What We Wanted Next, But It Was Something. Almost Overnight, All These Sisters (there Was No Other Kind Of Girl, Not Yet)had Become Interesting, Disturbing, Even.

Tuesday Night I Reorganized My Record Collection. I Often Do This At Periods Of Emotional Stress. There Are Some People Who Would Find This A Pretty Dull Way To Spend An Evening, But I'm Not One Of Them. This Is My Life, And It's Nice To Be Able To Wade In It, Immerse Your Arms In It, Touch It.

When You're Unhappy, I Guess Everything In The World - Reading, Eating, Sleeping - Has Something Buried Somewhere Inside It That Just Makes You Unhappier.