Me, myself and my thoughts

Forget everything. Open the windows. Clear the room. The wind blows through it. You see only its emptiness, you search in every corner and don't find yourself.

I cannot stand small talk, because I feel like there's an elephant standing in the room shitting all over everything and nobody is saying anything. I'm just dying to say, “Hey, do you ever feel like jumping off a bridge?" or "Do you feel an emptiness inside your chest at night that is going to swallow you?" But you can't say that at a cocktail party.

Have you ever had to get through a day, smiling at people, talking, as if everything were normal and okay, while all the the time you felt like you were carrying a leaden weight of unhappiness inside you?

My only relief is to sleep. When I'm sleeping, I'm not sad, I'm not angry, I'm not lonely, I'm nothing.

What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.

“I’d like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it.”

The one thing I don't want to be is a burden to anyone.