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Francisco Goya, The Dog

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Charles Bukowski, "Be Kind"

we are always asked to understand the other person's viewpoint no matter how out-dated foolish or obnoxious. one is asked to view their total error their life-waste with kindliness, especially if they are aged. but age is the total of our doing. they have aged badly because they have lived out of focus, they have refused to see. not their fault? whose fault? mine? I am asked to hide my viewpoint from them for fear of their fear. age is no crime but the shame of a deliberately wasted life among so many deliberately wasted lives is.

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Charles Bukowski, "As The Sparrow"

To give life you must take life, and as our grief falls flat and hollow upon the billion-blooded sea I pass upon serious inward-breaking shoals rimmed with white-legged, white-bellied rotting creatures lengthily dead and rioting against surrounding scenes. Dear child, I only did to you what the sparrow did to you; I am old when it is fashionable to be young; I cry when it is fashionable to laugh. I hated you when it would have taken less courage to love.

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Charles Bukowski, "As The Poems Go"

as the poems go into the thousands you realize that you've created very little.

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Sometimes what's important is dull. Sometimes it's work. Sometimes the important things aren't works of art for your entertainment.

David Foster Wallace, The Pale King

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It’s a metaphor, see: You put the killing thing right between your teeth, but you don’t give it the power to do its killing.

John Green, The Fault In Our Stars

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express yourself, they said.

I've been feeling an acute sense of loneliness lately. It didn't start out that way: it sort of crept up on me, like the way my roommate does right before she scares the shit out of someone. Feeling alone is something I've felt before. It's not a new experience, by any stretch of the imagination. Sometimes I see my life as a pendulum, swinging from loneliness to comfortability, and back again. But right now I think that, at those times when I feel comfortable, I'm really just closing my eyes really hard, convincing myself that I'm not alone if I can't see that I am.

I feel lonely when I feel unable to communicate. Communication is connection, and if I can't even do that, how can I say I'm anything more than alone?

Aldous Huxley once said, "In spite of language, in spite of intelligence and intuition and sympathy, one can never really communicate anything to anybody. The essential substance of every thought and feeling remains incommunicable, locked up in the impenetrable strong-room of the individual soul and body. Our life is a sentence of perpetual solitary confinement."

I mean, he gets it.

Sometimes people tell me that I cross the line with how much I say in certain situations. But that's just my quiet scream, my way of begging the world to hear me, to listen, to ask me for more.

My communication skills are sub-par, at best. I'm working on it - have been for as long as I can remember. As a little girl, my dad would constantly beg me to just tell him what was going on in my head, but there were innumerable times when I genuinely felt I couldn't do it. I simply didn't have the words. Maybe that's why I read so much. I'm just searching for the right words. Maybe if my vocabulary is good enough, I'll be able to tell someone what's happening. Maybe then I won't be alone.

I don't mean to say that I'm alone in the cliche "no one loves me" sense. I have plenty of people in my life that love me and are there for me in more ways than I could ever thank them for. What I mean by "alone" is without another person who can or is at least trying to understand the deeper parts of me that I have trouble understanding myself.

"I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself." -Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis

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You have it now and that is all your whole life is; now. There is nothing else than now. There is neither yesterday, certainly, nor is there any tomorrow. How old must you be before you know that? ...if you stop complaining and asking for what you never will get, you will have a good life.

 Ernest Hemingway, For Whom The Bell Tolls

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we'll drink ourselves awake

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the ordinary instrument

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God doesn’t want something from us. He simply wants us.

C. S. Lewis

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God has always been an arsonist. Heaven has always been on fire.

Andrea Gibson

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Cormac McCarthy, The Road

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There is no God and we are his prophets.

Cormac McCarthy, The Road

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The problem with some people is that when they aren't drunk, they're sober.

William Butler Yeats

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If he is not the word of God God never spoke.

Cormac McCarthy, The Road