Interacting with other people does not come naturally to me; it is a strain and requires effort. And since it does not come naturally to me I feel like I am not really myself when I make that effort. I feel fairly comfortable with my family, but even with them I sometimes feel the strain of not being alone.

I am often questioning myself what I further want to do, who I further wish to be; which parts of me, exactly, are still functioning properly. No answers, darling. At all.’

In order to arrive at what you are not,
you must go through the way in which you are not.
And what you do not know is the only thing you know,
and what you own is what you do not own,
and where you are is where you are not.

People often ask me questions that I cannot very well answer in words, and it makes me sad to think they are unable to hear the voice of my silence.

One looks for peace and turns to human beings to get it from them. But they can give nothing to begin with but madness and confusion. It must be sought elsewhere, yet the heavens are mute. And then, but only then, can one return to human beings, since, lacking peace, they give you sleep.