I would like to take a walk on the dark side.

I think I’m bad at dreaming, because I die every other time I do it. When you find out what a joy it is to live, you learn what it’s like to be afraid. Now I’m older and manly, so I’m scared of being scared. But scared is natural. It’s the self imposed darkness of sleep that brings either nightmares or dream escapes. Uncertainty leads to fear. Fear leads to a lot of things. A fear your nightmare will come true. A fear your dream wont. Before you can cross a fear, you have to build a bridge from underneath it. Before you can bask in summer’s gaze, you have to trudge through winter’s discontent. You have to embrace the darkness before you’re born once, and before you’re born again. Soulstice.

[If only you knew the power of the dark side.]

We don't always mean the things we say.

When I was young, there was a child in my elementary school class who was deaf. The teachers all tried to teach us how to speak cued speech so that we could communicate with him. I never really got it. I believed that if I just faked it, I would eventually pick up the language. I didn’t know how mean this was at the time. Now I know exactly what it is like to be made fun of by someone who isn’t making fun of you.

[That’s why people always ask you to say what you mean.]

Selfish

We all want things that we aren’t entitled to. I’ve wanted to be in love for a long time. I used to trick myself into believing I was in love when really I had just found someone who would tolerate me. I wanted it that badly. I still want it, but sometimes it is better to be open to something you want instead of seeking it out. When a woman rejects me it still hurts, but I act like it doesn’t. Sometimes women are afraid of telling me that they reject me; they don’t want to expend emotion on me. Is that selfish? I guess it could be. I probably only think that because it hurts to not be worth telling. Is it selfish to think that? I guess it could be.

[just because you aren’t entitled doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.]

Phillip K. Dick was not actually catholic

When I was young and idealistic I thought I could change the world. From a cubicle or outside of one, wherever really. If everyone was on the same page, maybe the world would be a better place. Then I got old and not stupid and I realized that so many things that are wrong with the world are a reflection of individuality. You cannot change the system from within, because the system changes you instead. There is nothing wrong with accepting the world as it is. There is no system worth being afraid of; only change.

[but he was Episcopalian; it is easy to confuse the two, Jack.]

We're all made of memories.

I still get sad about things that happened a long time ago. Even though we aren’t supposed to admit this, I think it is normal. If you are capable of letting go of your experiences without reservation and struggle, then you are close to sainthood. Imagine if everyone could do this. What would the world be without the malice that our scars create? But it is hard, because we don’t know what it means to let go on an instinctive level.

[But we’re easier to renovate than skyscrapers.]

The abyss doesn't actually stare back at anyone.

As an object approaches the event horizon of a black hole it appears to slow down, taking an infinite amount of time to approach the singularity. I guess it is appropriately fitting that the strongest gravitational forces in the universe are only interested in containing information about themselves and who ran into them and then never letting anyone forget about it. When you define yourself in terms of things you regret, your regrets become an event horizon beyond which no light or reason can pass through.

I guess Romans had a passionately violent view of love all along.

I think love would be a lot less stressful if it were a battlefield instead of a chess board. There’s no real deception in Russian Roulette, it’s just chance. You don’t have to calculate two rolls of the barrel ahead to determine the outcome, and if it’s perfect, you both shoot each other at the same time. That’s how Cupid works when he outsources his bow. He doesn’t require anyone to be an expert in game theory.

I have no desire to speak French in France.

I want to speak the language of flowers and be fluent in music. If I could only express happiness, I would make graffiti in the form of smiles. If my nose could exhale as it inhales, I would roll around in dumpsters and steal all the bubble wrap I could find. I want to know how to taste a sunset and speak a sunrise.