Val Emmich Quotes

To the ground I fall. I can never stay aloft too long. Not when there's an ugly and heavy truth always dragging me back down.

I do stupid things when I'm nervous, which means I'm constantly doing stupid things.

I was lucky. That's what everyone told me. I didn't feel very lucky, lying there in the most excruciating physical pain of my life.

She dresses like she's the dean of a small liberal arts college, and she probably could be. Not only does she relish following the rules, but she's also the only one who even knows what they are.

It became this thing that followed me arround. The logline to my movie, telling people what to expect of me. telling me what to expect of myself. I was the villain. that was my role.

Thinking about it now, i have to say, nothing terrible comes to mind. No blowup fights or traumatic episodes. that's usually what happens when i dig too deep into memories. The worst stuff pops up first.

I laugh plenty. I mean, i laughed plenty. I laughed at how absurdly fucked everything is. I laughed because there's not much else you can do. You can laugh or you can cry. I'd do plenty of both.

Is it possible that I actually appear to them as hollow and immaterial as I feel inside?

I felt swallowed by the swarm. Surrounded by all these people and somehow lonelier than ever. None of them saw me or knew me. The only one who ever did I'd pushed away.

The me I am is not the me I was.

Burning is the right way to paint it. You feel yourself getting so hot, day after day. Hotter and hotter. It gets to be too much. Even for stars. At some point they fizzle out or explode. Cease to be. But if you're looking up at the sky, you don't see it that way. You think those stars are still there. Some aren't. Some are already gone. Long gone. I guess, now, so am I.

I mean, he wasn't really there, but in my mind, it was like he was, and all of a sudden that same day wasn't such a nightmare. It was something else.

The me I am is not the me I was. Just like the me I am is not the me I will be. Those versions of myself I can't change or predict. I'm not even sure I have much influence over the present me. But it's all I've got. I probably shouldn't fight it.

I'm much better at interpreting books and stories than I am at understanding the decisions made by living, breathing people.

I looked up once more, at the whole world; it was beautiful, I knew it was, but I wasn't a part of it. I was never going to be a part of it.

How many times in life do you get to just start all over again?".
That does sound tempting, actually. Can i start over today?

I hold my breath, try to freeze time, thinking if I can just keep the air inside my lungs forever, maybe I'll never have to face what comes next. But I breathe, because I'm weak and I must, and when I open my eyes, and everyone is looking at me, and I know it's only begun: the end of everything. But there's no way out now.

Also, i realized that avoiding people didn't actually ease any of my anxieties. Out there in the woods, i still had to live with myself.

He doesn't think i'm worth the effort. I couldn't agree more. Anyway, i'm grateful. I'm not sure i could survive another fall today.

I walked to my window. It's pirch-dark outside. For the most part, I've always preffered night to day. At night, it's okay to be hunkered down in your house. During the day, people expect you to be out and about. You can start to feel pretty guilty about wasting so much time indoors.

I had to die for them to notice I was ever alive.

I wish that everything was different. I wish that I was a part of something. I wish that anything I said mattered, to anyone. I mean, let's face it: would anybody even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?

I just have this feeling sometimes that even the best therapist in the world couldn't fix me.

All I want to do is climb into bed and hide under the covers.

I just want to be alone, the way I've always been. I don't want to be bothered or noticed or questioned. But that's just wishful thinking.

But really, what was the point of going to school? They nevver knew what to do with me. If you don't fit into once of their boexes, you get tossed aside. I could learn way more at home. Reading my own books and watching Vice . At least when i was at Hanover i could mention Nietzsche with out a teacher staring back with a blank look

I am alone, the way I deserve to be. The way I'm meant to be. A fucking nothing. Unworthy to the core. How could I fool myself into thinking I could be deserving of anything close to happiness?

If the pain is in you, it's in you. It follows you everywhere. Can't outrun it. Can't erase it. Can't push it away; it only comes back. The way I've been thinking, after all that's happened, maybe there's only one way to survive it. You have to let it in. Let it hurt you.

My stomach was a hot puddle of nerves, had been for a week straight. I couldn't take it anymore. But to get rid of it once and for all, i had to do the brave thing. That's where my plan failed. I couldn't do it. I'm not brave. I'm extremely not brave.

Before all this, i was alone, but i still had a few squeezes left in my tube of hope. Connor Murphy wasn't a part of my daily life. He, like me, existed in the background. Our paths didn't cross, and if they did, neither of us noticed.

Fantasies always sound good, but they're no help when reality comes and shoves you to the ground. When it trips up your tongue and traps the right words in your head. When it leaves you to eat lunch by yourself.

You're born and you keep getting older and grayer and sicker, and no matter what efforts you make to reverse the process, you die, every single time. To repeat: worse, worse, worse, and then death. I have a long way to go before the worst. This is only the beginning.