Trust is as fragile as fairies’ wings and almost as hard to find.

I wanted simple and sane. Barring that, I wanted nothing. I wanted numb.

The world is essentially bipolar: driven to extremes but defined by flux. Saints are always just a stumble away from sinners. Nothing is absolute, not even death.

There’s a very fine line, indistinguishable at times, between charismatic and crazy.

Was drug induced happy still happy? Was it the right kind of happy? Did it count?

It may have sounded like no to a glass of wine, but in truth it was no to a great many things. And yes to a great many more.

Bridges are only kindling, I thought. I decided to torch this one. I.

It is a testament to the sharp beauty of a life lived in extremes.

I only know that my greatest victories have always been surrenders.

Without the darkness, how can we ever hope to understand the light?