“I hope he’s impotent and gets cancer in his eyes.”
“I hate laughing at crap jokes. I have to laugh at so many crap jokes in the course of my day, just to stroke the egos of others.”
“It’s sad to see Cav go, he’s a unique sort of chap, jocose but armed with a steel-plated intellect. I must admit that I followed him around like a loose-skinned puppy for a few months, hoping to blossom by osmosis, but eventually my stinging over-sensitivity pushed me back to a more dignified distance.”
“No use doing anything, Mr Reaper comes for us all, and he doesn’t care if you’re single, married, successful, a failure, or anything. The great leveller.”
“Don’t you ever feel like stuff is pointless ‘coz of the impermanence of it all?”
“Is it just part of human nature to be unhappy with what you have, no matter how good it is?”
“I’m walking along looking at the people in their fifties and I think “God, I’ve got to keep getting up every morning and keep breathing for the next forty or fifty years”
“I’m living in dreamland, and now I wake to find the hound of reality with its jaws planted firmly in the wobbily expanse of my ass. I don’t wanna live in the real world. Shit.”
“I don’t want anything to do with someone unless I am completely sure I won’t be rejected.”
“Remember when you were a kid and you were grumpy at one of life’s injustices, and the adults would say “I think someone’s a bit tiiiiired” and it would pissed you off even more because you weren’t tired, you were pissed off. And so here I am, fifteen years later, trying to explain away a rotten mood by telling myself I’m tired.”
If I feel the need to flee, I’ll start acting appallingly. Maybe I should make myself a menu of atrocities to commit, in case I go blank at a critical moment.
“Remember when you were a kid and Christmases seemed absolute eons apart? I wish I still had that sense of time, how do you suppose we lose it? I guess it’s comparative. When I was eight, one year was an eighth of my entire life. Now it’s less than one twentieth, or 5%.”
“Apparently you can’t call anyone fat, or stupid, or ugly – even if they are.”
“Dear Diary, what has introspection ever done for me, huh? Answer me that.”
“Maybe I’m just a second-rate Nihilist, or more likely, an Existentialist dilettante.”
“Life is essentially pointless, there is no God, no grand plan or central motif linking everything together. As such, one cannot fail in anything, because success loses meaning, nothing has meaning. Ergo, there should be no barriers to happiness. This is, of course, a steaming pile of shit.”
“Maybe I’m just getting old, but the physical rebellion of outward appearance just doesn’t have that kick anymore.”
“The forecast is for a bit more shittiness followed by a cold front of irritability.”
“I’m going to become an urban hermit, straight to work and straight home.”
“It’s hard enough living with yourself, let alone anyone else. I don’t think I’ll be having another live-in relationship for a long time, if ever, though I’m sure a fear of dying alone will force me into one somewhere along the line.”
“They say that time heals all wounds. Except amputation, I suspect.”
“If you try too hard to listen to your heart of hearts, you can’t hear it at all.”
“Whoopee, I love that consumerist rush you get from buying things you never knew you needed, until the TV Genie told you so.”
“Remember kids, floss or die.’
“Do I follow my heart or my mind? Personally, I think I have a better mind than heart (if one can compare the two), but people seem to have an aversion to others who are perceived as being “heartless”.”
“Indecision is my bedfellow, my shadow. It sleeps beside me, dogs my every footstep.”
“So many questions, and without some dogmatic organised religion to give me all the answers, no immediate resolution. Perhaps I should physically draw up my own moral code to adhere to in the absence of a sensible, recognizable and accessible social set of ethics.”
“Is it nobler to hide one’s faults when they are going to have an adverse effect on those around them, or is it nobler to be honest no matter the emotional cost?”
“I wish I could disappear and not have to deal with people. I get sick of putting on a different face for everyone, behaving in the way that I know will make them like me the most. I can’t be bothered anymore, and I think just dropping out altogether will be easier than trying to deal with people honestly and just present eh one face to all of them. And anyway, who’s to say which is my real face anyway. Maybe I don’t have one, so to speak. Perhaps I’m simply made up entirely of what people want me to be.”
“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, but it’s such a release.”
“Had a miserable, angry day choking on my own bile. Heaven forbid I should choke on someone else’s.”
“I’ve had some frightening ideas about myself the past few days, about how much my father has influenced me. Perhaps my deep mistrust of people springs from his duplicitous love-life. If I can’t trust him, from whose loins (shudder, shudder) I spring, then who can I trust? I think that perhaps my secrecy is also rooted in this. I think I got his secrecy through osmosis, for if I was directly aware of it, it wouldn’t be secret. So why are these things making me so unhappy? Because they’re making me like my father and I can’t fucking stand him. Christ, I think that might be it. But why do I hate him so much? Not just what he did, but who he is (which is defined by what he does I suppose.) Maybe I hate him because Mum does and I’ve always been Mum’s son, but I don’t think that’s it. Maybe it’s a matter of asking the right questions of myself.”
“People with names like “Coral” and “Amber” are the sort of people who swallow their own toothpaste. They just don’t know any better. They’re somewhat acerebral, like their namesakes.”
“Lying is essential to fit in with society on that all important superficial level.”
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