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

“I nod, because I do understand. I'm just not sure how to go about divorcing myself from the evil I've already accepted.”

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

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

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

“I've Got A Little ProblemAnd I'm not really sure how to fix it.Not really sure I need to. Not really sure I could.Life is pretty good. But once in a while, uninvited and uninitiated anger invades me.It starts, a tiny gnaw at the back of my brain. Like a migraine except without pain. They say headaches blossom, but this isn't so much a blooming as a bleeding. Irritation bleeds into rage, seethes into fury. An ulcer, emptying hatred inside me. And I don't know why. Life is pretty good.So, what the hell?”

“I told her about the man, not my daddy, she said, He was only making you into a real girl. I didn’t understand. But I made myself believe her. I was a real girl now. But what was I before?”