“It isn’t easy,” is easy to say and sometimes I think that the only thing we can dois say really easy things to each other.”

“There are never any real stars in LA, but we’ve got a bunch of fake ones made out of brass and terrazzo. We embed them in the sidewalks outside of strip clubs and gift shops— Walk of Fame, walk of shame… walk of names we’re all destined to forget sooner or later.”

“I want to be split open and reminded of shame.”

“Every ghost has a story. Monsters are nothing without mythology.”

“Cry wolf often enough and you eventually get eaten by the wolf, even if the wolf is you.”

“...stars are dying all the time. Some explode. Some collapse and cave in on themselves. Those ones become black holes. Others get sucked up inside of them just for getting too close. Guilty by association. Prosecuted for proximity.”

“I need to move. I don’t fit in here. I almost tried a juice cleanse once, but quickly remembered that I could starve, and was starving, myself for free.”

“I’ve memorized the best angles in the bathroom mirror from which to see how badly I’ve disintegrated. I truly do go from sixty to zero.”

“I've come to realize that hunger feels more like home than any tangible structure ever has, or probably ever will. I know now that creating absence is my way of coping with absence.”

“I just want to get away from me.”

“Regret, albeit raw and relentless, is almost always unremarkable.”