A Shameful Life

was well liked by others, but it seems I lacked the ability to love them back.

clowning itself left me exhausted.

Even if we combine Eros and desire it’s still not quite enough

True masters, however, took the most unremarkable objects and, through their own interpretation, created something beautiful.

Confined to my tiny room, spending my days and nights curled up under a blanket and reading old magazines like a halfwit, unable to drink or smoke, I’d completely lost the energy to kill myself.

It was the first time that the mere voice of someone I loved caused me pain. Whether or not it was all I had didn’t matter.

What if I make enough for the both of us? Would that work?”

“No.”

(I doubt I will again so unhesitatingly employ such bold and positive language in the entirety of my journals)

Compared to the terror I felt toward “real life” in human society and the hellish torments of my nightly insomnia, I sometimes thought that life in prison might be an improvement.

There is a word: “pariah.” In human society this word is used to indicate those who have failed, the pathetic, the immoral