“PrettyThat's what I am, I guess.I mean, people have been tellingme that's what I am sinceI was two. Maybe younger. Prettyas a picture. (Who wantsto be a cliché?) Pretty asan angel. (Can you see them?)Pretty as a butterfly. (But isn'tthat really just a glam bug?)Cliché, invisible, or insectlike,I grew up knowing I waspretty and believing everything goodabout me had to do with howI looked. The mirror was my bestfriend. Until it started telling me I wasn't really pretty enough.”

“I am still so naïve; I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe?”

“I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don't ask me who I am.”

“I nod and I promise I will report any hallucinations to my mother, but I do not really believe I will hallucinate no matter what type of drugs he gives me, especially since I know he will not be giving me LSD or anything like that. I figure weaker people probably complain about their drugs, but I am not weak and I can control my mind pretty well.”

“Do you know what people really want? Everyone, I mean. Everybody in the world is thinking: I wish there was just one other person I could really talk to, who could really understand me, who'd be kind to me. That's what people really want, if they're telling the truth.”

“Do you know what people really want? Everyone, I mean. Everybody in the world is thinking: I wish there was just one other person I could really talk to, who could really understand me, who'd be kind to me. That's what people really want, if they're telling the truth.”