Book: Windows on the World

Sorry for that bout of black humor, a fleeting refuge from the nightmare.

Why is everything so bad? Because I am ordinary, because I'm thirteen years old.

One morning, at 9.26, I found that I was incapable of loving anyone but himself.

... the educated people are often of the self-taught: they whole lives trying to pass not handed in when the exam.

I blame myself that want the best and settle for less.

You were my life, now you're the meaning of my death.

Women are often ahead of the event.

I'm not suicidal, I just have a self-destructive lifestyle

Love to listen at the door, especially when it is not.

Capitalist utopia was as stupid as a Communist, but the violence in her was implicit. Due to the way they won in the cold war, the people die of hunger in America and Russia, but those who died in America was freedom of choice.

I'm tired of that people think I'm a spoiled child and criticized for the fact that I break toys. I break them to make a new one.

I'm empty; I want to smash my head to fuck until blue in the face and to read books even worse than mine. Only to forget that I have no past and I'm a windbag.

Generation, kooky switching channels, and suffering from existential schizophrenia. What will happen to them when they find out that you can't have everything and be everything? I feel sorry for them, because personally I still have not recovered from this discovery.

Emptiness is not a deliberate choice. It's just the only thing nice to look from above, here I want to get here, not bands you skin incandescent claws, rip ticks blazing eyes. Emptiness is easy.
Emptiness is the way out. Void friendly. Emptiness stretches out your arms.