“It’s a crooked, looping, labyrinthine story. You walk into the maze, pick a path, and follow it as far as you can, until you hit a dead end. You realize: no, that’s not it; or that was partially right, but not entirely. Or maybe you don’t hit a wall – maybe you make it all the way through the exit, but then you start wondering if there are other paths that would have worked too. You realize you haven’t figured out the entire maze yet, and that’s your goal. You want to know the whole of it. So you keep going back to the beginning. Or to a beginning, anyhow. The fiendish thing about this particular maze is that there are so many different beginnings, and an infinite number of possible places to end. “ – The Suicide Index, Joan Wickersham
My train of thoughts.
A crowded mind just loses flight.
Selflessness or Weakness.
He who fears the wolf should never enter the forest – Fyodor Dostoyevsky
2014 in review
“Why do you put your self esteem in the hands of complete strangers?”
Sun and faint stars
I don’t like anxiety.
There was courage, transparency. There was declaration.”
“If people were rain, I was drizzle, and she was a hurricane.”
I wonder how is it I miss, these things that I’ve never known.