Go Ask Alice

I'm not really sure which parts of myself are real and which parts are things I've gotten from books.

It's a good thing most people bleed on the inside or this would be a gory, blood-smeared earth.

I'm partly somebody else trying to fit in and say the right things and do the right thing and be in the right place and wear what everybody else is wearing. Sometimes I think we're all trying to be shadows of each other, trying to buy the same records and everything even if we don't like them. Kids are like robots, off an assembly line, and I don't want to be a robot!

I really am only one infinitely small part of an aching humanity.

I wouldn't intentionally hurt anyone in this whole world. I wouldn't hurt them physically or emotionally, how then can people so consistently do it to me? Even my parents treat me like I'm stupid and inferior and ever short. I guess I'll never measure up to anyone's expectations. I surely don't measure up to what I'd like to be.

I guess I'll never measure up to anyone's expectations. I surely don't measure up to what I'd like to be.

Maybe the new me will be different.

I'm afraid to live and afraid to die.

How is it possible for me to be so miserable and embarrassed and humiliated and beaten an function still talk and smile and concentrate?

The same old dumb teachers teaching the same old dumb subjects in the same old dumb school. I seem to be kind of losing interest in everything. At first I thought high school would be fun but it's just dull. Everything's dull. Maybe it's because I'm growing up and life is becoming more blase.

Why is life so difficult? Why can't we be just ourselves and have everyone accept us the way we are?

She didn't know whether she was running away from something or running to something, but she admitted that deep in her heart she wanted to go home.

Nobody's talking to me, but nobody's hassling me either. I guess you can't have everything.

They have accepted me as an individual, as a personality, as an entity. I belong! I am important! I am somebody!

…I’d have died without them [books]. Even now I’m not really sure which parts of myself are real and which parts are things I’ve gotten from books.

I can't believe that I changed so little. I expected to look old and hollow and gray, but I guess it's only me on the inside that has shriveled and deteriorated.

I've been asleep and I don't know if it's the same day or week or year, but who the hell cares anyway?

I'm partly somebody else trying to fit in and say the right things and do the right thing and be in the right place and wear what everybody else is wearing. Sometimes I think we're all trying to be shadows of each other, trying to buy the same records and everything even if we don't like them.

I'm afraid to hope but I can't help it, and the idea of hoping in this most hopeless of all places makes me want to cry.

We get pissed off when someone tells us what to do, but we don't know what to do unless some fat bastard tell us.

It's a good thing most people bleed on the inside or this would really be a gory, blood-smeared earth.

I bet the pill is harder to get than drugs--which shows how screwed up this world really is!

I looked at sky this morning and realized summer is almost gone which really made me sad because it doesn't seem as though its been here at all.

I don’t want to get old. I have this very silly fear, dear friend, that one day I’ll be old, without ever having really been young.

This morning when I left Mom's parting words were, "Come straight home after school." Wow! Like I'm going to get stoned at 3:30—it doesn't sound so bad at that.

I feel like Alice in Wonderland. Maybe Lewis G Carroll was on drugs too.

If only parents would listen! If only they would let us talk instead of forever and eternally and continuously harping and preaching and nagging and correcting and yacking, yacking, yacking! But they won’t listen! They simply won’t or can’t or don’t want to listen, and we kids keep winding up back in the same old frustrating, lost, lonely corner with no one to relate to either verbally or physically.

I'm partly somebody else trying to fit in and say the right things and do the right thing and be in the right place and wear what everybody else is wearing. Sometimes I think we're all trying to be shadows of each other...

Antes pensaba que la única que sentía las cosas era yo, pero realmente no soy sino una parte infinitamente pequeña de la humanidad que sufre.