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It all seems so permanent, so old and new at the same time. But I wonder if I will ever feel completely new again. Or will I spend the rest of my life feeling like a walking disease?
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Actually I don’t need the sleep as much as I need the escape. It’s a wonderful way to escape. I think I can’t stand it and then I just take a pill and wait for sweet nothingness to take over. At this stage in my life nothingness is a lot better than somethingness.
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The complete bottom has fallen out of my life.
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I guess I'll never measure up to anyone's expectations. I surely don't measure up to what I'd like to be.
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One day I'll be old, without ever having really been young.
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I feel like Alice in Wonderland. Maybe Lewis G Carroll was on drugs too.
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I pretend I've got lots of confidence and I'm a big jock and like that but deep inside I'm a frightened, insecure, can't-make-it failure.
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I'm afraid to live and afraid to die.
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Sometimes fantasies are better than life.
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I'm partly somebody else trying to fit in and say the right things and do the right thing and be in the right place and wear what everybody else is wearing. Sometimes I think we're all trying to be shadows of each other, trying to buy the same records and everything even if we don't like them. Kids are like robots, off an assembly line, and I don't want to be a robot!
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The voice of every kid hooked on drugs, alcohol or the occult joins the sad chorus "Not me! I didn't think it could ever happen to me. I was sure I could handle it.
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Depressed? No one in the world but a doper could know the true opposite of depressed.
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Why so much hate in your mind when love is the only way to straighten things out?
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…I’d have died without them books. Even now I’m not really sure which parts of myself are real and which parts are things I’ve gotten from books.
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I wanted to write in you.
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Everyone is trying to get attention but intelligent persons get theirs by doing something worthwhile, beneficial to himself and the community.
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Like usual, what I want is not important, what I’m supposed to do that counts.
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How can thoughts hurt so much when they aren't even physical?
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Maybe the new me will be different.
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Then there’s me… non-relevant, non-predicable… ass-headed.