Once you've posed that question, it won't go away. I think many people kill themselves simply to stop the debate about whether they will or they won't.
Susanna KaysenSome people say that having any conscious opinion on the matter is a mark of sanity, but I'm not sure that's true. I still think about it. I'll always have to think about it.
I often ask myself if I'm crazy. I ask other people too. 'Is this a crazy thing to say?' I'll ask before saying something that probably isn't crazy.
I start a lot of sentences with 'Maybe I'm totally nuts,' or 'Maybe I've gone 'round the bend.'
If I do something out of the ordinary, like take two baths in a day for example- I say to myself: Are you crazy"
It's a common phrase, I know. But it means something particular to me: the tunnels, the security screens, the plastic forks, the shimmering, ever-shifting borderline that like all boundaries beckons and asks to be crossed. I do not want to cross it again
This time I read the title of the painting: Girl Interrupted at Her Music. Interrupted at her music: as my life had been, interrupted in the music of being seventeen, as her life had been, snatched and fixed on canvas: one moment made to stand still and to stand for all the other moments, whatever they would be or might have been. What life can recover from that?
Susanna KaysenStichwörter: life loss sad recovery stolen girl-interrupted
The world didn't stop because we weren't in it anymore.
Susanna KaysenStichwörter: reality psychology
The debate was wearing me out. Once you've posed that question, it won't go away. I think many
people kill themselves simply to stop the debate about whether they will or they won't.
Anything I thought or did was immediately drawn into the debate. Made a stupid remark--why not kill
myself? Missed the bus--better put an end to it all. Even the good got in there. I liked that movie--maybe
I shouldn't kill myself.
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People ask, How did you get in there? What they really want to know is if they are likely to end up in there as well. I can't answer the real question. All I can tell them is, It's easy.
Susanna KaysenLight like this does not exist, but we wish it did. We wish the sun could make us young and beautiful, we wish our clothes could glisten and ripple against our skins, most of all, we wish that everyone we knew could be brightened simply by our looking at them, as are the maid with the letter and the soldier with the hat.
Susanna KaysenShe wasn't blotto, she was plotting.
Susanna KaysenStichwörter: crazy girl plotting blotto lightbulbs
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