"They don’t teach you this in school. They don’t show you the beauty of existing, they don’t show you the wonder of the earth, they don’t show you the unity that human beings are. They show you who’s better, who’s worse. They show you what they need to show you in order for their system to survive. They don’t show you love."
I do not like my state of mind. I'm bitter, querulous and unkind. I hate my legs, I hate my hands. I do not yearn for lovelier lands. I dread the dawn's recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night. I snoot at simple, earnest folk. I cannot take the gentlest joke. I find no peace in paint or type. My world is but a lot of tripe. I'm disillusioned and empty-breasted. For what I think, I'd be arrested. I am not sick, I am not well. My quondam dreams are shot to hell. My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me any more. I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse. I ponder on the narrow house. I shudder at the thought of men.. and to make matters worse, I'm due to fall in love again.
