Цитаты из книги Lost on Me

In my life I never see the glass half full. Or half empty. I always see it on the verge of toppling over. Or I don’t see it at all. There is no glass. Nothing’s there. I’m staring at an ugly table with nothing on it. The table itself might disappear. In fact, it already has. What I’m left with isn’t its absence, only puzzlement. Sorry, I can’t remember. What is it I was supposed to see again? I don’t know where to find the answer, because at that point the question has also disappeared.

To tell the truth, there are a bunch of kids for whom I’ve never cut out a role for myself as a godmother, aunt, stepsister, babysitter, or simple acquaintance. Basically they’re born and I vanish. Poof! Like a fairy in a vocational crisis.

The concept of “letting yourself go” has always been foreign to me for a very banal reason: I don’t understand where it is I’m supposed to go. To me, every experience needs a precise linguistic or empirical explanation, an illustrated primer complete with examples; otherwise I’m oblivious to the fact that I’m experiencing it.

Sometimes I try masturbating to fall asleep. It’s more of a physical exercise, a form of exertion for lazy people who don’t care for sports. Or even a mental exercise, a moment of reflection for skeptical people who don’t care for meditation

Before fully reaching puberty, when people at school started pointing out that I smelled funny, I’d always imagined one shower a week was the socially accepted universal standard. As soon as I insisted on showering every day, my mother took it as a provocation. She would open the bathroom door on me. “Get your hands off yourself."