“Faces...I...don't...know...the real...me”

“I still care for you, you know..That phrase again. Everyone cares for me. They just don't know how to love me.”

“I don’t belong here. I know that. But I don’t belong anywhere else, either. And that is at the heart of the black depression pressing down on me, flattening me. I have no place. No home. Sex, but no real affection. I am kept, but not cherished.”

“The truth is, I don't have a real clue what love is - how to find it, how to give it. Once upon a time I thought I knew.”

“The only thing about myself I know for sure is that I don't know anything.”

“I want to know living love. And I don't want to wait for it.”

“One foot in front of the other, counting tiles on the floor so I don't have to focus the blur of painted smiles, fake faces.”