"I have wanted to kill myself a hundred times, but somehow I am still in love with life. This ridiculous weakness is perhaps one of our most melancholy propensities; for is there anything more stupid than to be eager to go on carrying a burden which one would gladly throw away, to loathe one’s very being and yet to hold fast, to fondle the snake that devours us until it has eaten our hearts away?"

I’m becoming so focused on trying to achieve another persons happiness that I forgot about my own… 

I’m beginning feel like I don’t understand myself anymore. The things I often find myself doing no longer have reason…