Everything is a self-portrait. A diary. Your whole drug history’s in a strand of your hair. Your fingernails. The forensic details. The lining of your stomach is a document. The calluses on your hand...
And I say no. The problem is the light, the dim light down here. Cupped in the palm of my hand, the cyanide and the wood pill, I can't tell which is which. What's sex and what's death—I can't tell the...
We just had a near-life experience!
I try to forget about the expectation that's out there and the audience listening for the next thing so that I'm not trying to please them. I've spent a huge amount of time not communicating with thos...
I really love idiot, enlightened characters - these characters who fail to engage with the drama of their immediate circumstances they fail to be reactive and enrolled by drama as it happens around th...
Your past is just a story. And once you realize this, it has no power over you.
You realize that there's no point in doing anything if nobody's watching.
You met me at a very strange time in my life.
You are not special. You're not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else.
When you look for these support groups, they all have vague upbeat names. My Thursday evening group for blood parasites, it's called Free and Clear.
We've spent so much time judging what other people created that we've created very, very little of our own.
We thought all this teaching was to make us smart. What it did was make us stupid.
We hear the ambient noise of children singing. We hear lions and tigers roar. Hyenas laugh. Some jungle bird or howler monkey declares its existence, screeching a maniac's gibberish. Our entire world,...
We can spend our lives letting the world tell us who we are. Sane or insane. Saints or sex addicts. Heroes or victims. Letting history tell us how good or bad we are. Letting our past decide our futur...
We are God's middle children, according to Tyler Durden, with no special place in history and no special attention.
We all have some proper noun to blame.
Walter from Microsoft catches my eye. Here's a young guy with perfect teeth and clear skin and the kind of job you bother to write the alumni magazine about getting. You know he was too young to fight...
Until today, it really pissed me off that I'd become this totally centered Zen Master and nobody had noticed.
Too much school.Would you rather be dead?! Would you rather die? Here, on your knees in the back of a convenience store?!
Todos nós crescemos vendo os mesmos programas de TV. É como se tivéssemos os mesmos implantes artificiais de memória. Não nos recordamos de quase nada da nossa verdadeira infância, mas nos lembramos d...