All I can hear now is the sound of my own heart, opening and closing, opening and closing, opening.

I don’t pretend to be wise, but I am observing, and I see a great deal more than you’d imagine. I’m interested in other people’s experiences and inconsistencies, and, though I can’t explain, I remember and use them for my own benefit.

Soon we will be strangers. No, we can never be that. Hurting someone is an act of reluctant intimacy. We will be dangerous acquaintances with a history.

I do know my own mind…The trouble is, my mind changes and then I have to get acquainted with it all over again.

Even when I am alone, I have real good company - dreams and imaginations and pretendings.

Shout-out to people studying with a mental illness.