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“Addiction is like swimming in an ocean for a very long time...drowning really, ready to give in. You're so tired, but you keep swimming, and then you start REALLY drowning. It's like trying to gasp for a breath, one tiny inhalation to keep going, and you get the one breath, but you are near death, suffocation, and each time you still manage to get one small breath in to keep going. Until, finally either you break free, you swim away from that magnificent grip, that monster lurking that keeps pushing your head under, or you have drowned. You died. It's that simple.”

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“My entire life I watched people allow the world to shape them, to dictate their choices, to mold them into the clay globe that is earth. To be part of, to fit in. I watched their interior and exterior layers be thinned out by society. But me? I'm like an open wound, instead. I'm the thing you can't bandage. I'm that ugly scar that isn't going away. I'm a reminder of pain, of truth, of brutality. Nobody likes brutality. Nobody likes harsh truths. And, you know what? I'm fucking okay with that.”

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“There were days when the saturation of death, and the realities of life, became too great. Days where I felt suffocated, heavy. I’d try to gasp for a breath, and I’d fail. Yet, just in the nick of time, I would somehow, once again, be resuscitated. The world grew dark, cold. A black cloud looming over everything that I saw. People evolved into monsters–caricatures, and EVERYTHING was frightening, everybody was a predator! The world transformed, and I would choke. Plumes of dust representing reality, as they sought an exit from my mouth, as I wheezed, and I gasped. Reality was choking me, saturating me with its heaviness. Control? None whatsoever. Not over things, not over people. No, that was Life’s illusion; control was the magic trick. The lack of control, I was truly speaking of, was the inevitable–death. The one thing that tied into everything, everyone. Every neurotic thought, every impulse. It was Death. The Random Act.”

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“In the Addictarium I learned one thing; life is about who we think we are, lessons are learned when we stop thinking negatively about ourselves. I learned that at the bottom of all addictions was the need to be loved, the bottom of all misery, the bottom of disaster. All of it led to love. Not being loved. Wanting love. Loving and not having it return. That's what every moment in history boiled down to. Acceptance...understanding--not feeling it, and therefore not feeling loved.”

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“When men perform egocentric activities, we tag it and brush it off like "oh he's a guy, they have egos." as if to say women don't. Well, guess what? One should HOPE we have egos too. After All, without an ego the only thing left is the ID. Primary ANIMAL instincts. You know what we call people with only an ID? Psychopaths.”

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“I can't recall ever wanting a normal life. I never really wanted marriage and kids, the whole barefoot in the kitchen thing. I LOVE children, and I LOVE the idea of celebrating love. I've been in engaged multiple times. But, even when I said yes, I knew it was just to agree to and seal myself to that person with a higher commitment. I've never gotten that wedding bug, where I just want to pour a years worth of energy into throwing this epic party because I did the thing every body does. What's the big deal? I just don't comprehend it.”

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“I love children so much that I decided not to have them. I loved my nephews so fiercely, and the heartache I endured form that alone was torture. So, when I thought about my own kids, I knew that my neuroticism would be incredibly unhealthy for them. I Decided not to have them, because I understand the commitment, and I love them to too much already--in my brain--to let them down like that. To disappoint them with life.”

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“Because life–to be alive, existence—was power in itself, and death (not sodomy) was the ultimate submissive act. Everything else was just revolving around life and death. That was why people became obsessed with power, control, let fear drive them. Fear of the unknown, and ultimately of death, were the things that life revolved around. It was sort of ironic, life revolving around death, and vice versa. Like, with everything else, with one came the inevitable blossoming of its opposite.”

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“Stockholm Syndrome. […] It was a sort of desperate blind love. And loyalty. Loyalty and love geared towards the abuser. It’s a response to fear, an admission within of defeat, I’d read. But I thought it to be more than that. It was the thrill of having something to submit to, become utterly powerless to. A sinister sort of seduction. You knew in your heart it would end badly, yet you just couldn’t stop yourself from giving [B.K1] in to that primal urge, the way prey finally accepts its fate, take me, it says, as the [B.K2] predator sinks its teeth in.”

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“Part of me hated technology, because to me technology was a mother fucker that was eating this world alive. It was all part of the machine, the deadening of the human spirit, and I wouldn’t allow it. I had to see the world for what it was, drain it of all its illusion, because what lingered beneath? The wild, untamed beast, and in the end it would eat us all. That was something nobody could stop, not with any amount of money, or material things. Nothing that was part of physical reality could prevent death. So, to me, people were absurd, robotic, already dead. Buying fancy cars, big homes, the latest electronics, and all for what? The excuse was convenience. I need this. It makes things easier. Yet, while comfort may have been at the surface, the real thirst for these things, for material possessions, was to feel in control, and to feel part of.”

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“I always felt in a sort of, liquified state. If that makes sense? I think it's interesting because I grew up near such a renowned, gorgeous and enigmatic land mark. Is it possible that nature interferes with and/or conditions us? I think so. At the end of the day, we are organic, we are offspring from the earth, sophisticated bacteria, if you will. So, why wouldn't moods and traits, characteristics, emotions, habits, thought-patterns--why wouldn't all of that be affected by nature? Growing up near water, I sincerely believe, affected me in SOME way.”

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“Even when I was at my most uninhibited, wild and carefree and seemingly invincible (in my head), making impulsive, reckless, decisions, even THEN I knew I could not and should not produce a child. I am too selfish to ever put a kid through that. Self-minded people do a lot of amazing thing. Artistically, speaking. But, they are rarely good parents. It's like, I already loved my child so much, I didn't want to disappoint them.”

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“I couldn’t bear the thought of what drugs could do. I wanted to cry, I felt the anguish, the pain, of all that was alive and suffering right then! How this world was dying, all of us, this lost generation. The Lost Children, The Lost Children, an echo drilled so penetratingly, so pervasively, in my head. I sucked in a breath, and now? I was choking.”

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