the worst part about being lied to is knowing you werent worth the truth

This instant which I cannot leave, which locks me in and limits me on every side, this instant I am made of will be no more than a confused dream.

That's what I must avoid: I mustn't put strangeness where there's nothing. I think that is the danger of keeping a diary: you exaggerate everything, you are on the look-out, and you continually stretch the truth.

You exaggerate everything. You continually force the truth because you're always looking for something.

As if there could be true stories: things happen in one way, and we retell them in the opposite way.