I love being in cities with lots of other people, because I’m reminded that there are billions of people like me, and we are each stuck inside of our minds, feverishly trying to crawl out to make connections with other people.
You’re always haunted by the idea you’re wasting your life.
Shyness has a strange element of narcissism, a belief that how we look, how we perform, is truly important to other people.
Yet she likes complications. She wishes she could turn and say: I like people who unbalance me.
The more sensitive you are, the more certain you are to be brutalized, develop scabs, never evolve. Never allow yourself to feel anything, because you always feel to much.
Human beings are such knotted, desperate pieces of work - it’s a rare thing to know one completely, to the core, and still love him.
Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?
You scare the shit out of people so they can’t see how scared you are.
So therefore I dedicate myself, to my art, my sleep, my dreams, my labors, my suffrances, my loneliness, my unique madness, my endless absorption and hunger because I cannot dedicate myself to any fellow being.
Page 1 of 9