I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well Potpourri: a miscellaneous collection Physically in New York, Mentally in Paris
Why do I do this to myself. I create this monstrosity of pain and grief and then I wonder why I'm so sad. I wonder how I got this way, when in reality, it happened because of me. I knew all along. And it's all my fault. And I can't do anything about it.