The quickest path to self-destruction is to push away the people you love.
Unless we learn to know ourselves, we run the danger of destroying ourselves.
I will no longer mutilate and destroy myself in order to find a secret behind the ruins.
Freedom exercised without the tempering of wisdom and the guidance of ethics is freedom gone rogue. And freedom gone rogue is no longer freedom. Rather, it is the rather effective method by which we’ve now chosen to destroy ourselves.
It's 4am again and I'm just getting started. People are boring and I want to burn with excitement or anger and bleed, bleed through my words. I want to get all fucked up and write real and raw and ugly and beautifully. I bet you're sleeping safe and calm, and you can stay there, it's safer there, and you wouldn't stand one night on this journey my mind wanders off to every night you close your eyes. I'll stay here one day and I will never come down. I promise I can fly before I hit the ground. It doesn't even hurt anymore. I swear, it doesn't hurt.
Having a low opinion of yourself is not 'modesty.' It's self-destruction. Holding your uniqueness in high regard is not 'egotism.' It's a necessary precondition to happiness and success.
The presence of atrocity doesn’t mean you have to put your life on hold. You’ll arguably be better at dealing with the horrible things you have to witness, or even to perpetrate, if you allow yourself time to do the small, simple things that make you happy. Instead of looking for ways to destroy yourself.
Sometimes you are the only toxic person you need to cut off your life, and I hope that one day you will be brave enough to admit it …
Will it take the death of me to finally learn that the things that I describe as success may very well be the death of me?
Every breath, every moment, possessed with an illusion of glamor, of filthy decadence, purely because it was ours, we two our own radical world, a star collapsing inward and bursting, gorgeous, in the dark.
That voice you listen to is no friend. It promises so much but when has it ever given you what it promised? When has it ever given you any happiness longer than a fleeting moment? It has your destruction as its goal, not your happiness.
Luckily, even as a young man not yet become himself, John Bridgens had two things besides indecision that kept him from self-destruction - books and a sense of irony.