“Why is it that I occur as a story to everyone except myself?”
“Everyone Except Willie, so now why ”
“I ask myself, "Why am I so serious?" Everyone else asks me, "Why are you such a joker?”
“It occurred to me that there was a story behind the scar -- maybe not as dramatic as the story of my wrists, but a story nonetheless -- and the fact that everyone had a story behind some mark on their inside or outside suddenly exhausted me, the gravity of all those untold pasts.”
“But I kept it to myself--maybe because I didn't think it mattered, but probably because, in a place where everyone knew my story, it was nice to know there was a chapter that only I had read.”
“Everyone is an idiot," I stated. "Except me.”