Writer. alterna-chick. introspective GenXer. feminist. dilettante. vegan. indie film and music fan. avid reader. Prefer cultural activities to sporting events. Indoors to outdoors. City to suburbs.

 

I’m thirty years old and eleven of those years have been wasted. I’m thirty and I still don’t know who I am, and still don’t know what it’s all for. I’ve seen nothing but blood and sweat and filth. I’ve done nothing but wait, wait, and wait some more.

The Post-Office Girl by Stefan Zweig

I don’t believe in anything anymore, not gods or governments or the meaning of life, nothing, as long as I feel I haven’t got what’s rightfully mine my rightful place in life, and as long as I don’t hae that I’m going to keep on saying I’ve been robbed and cheated. I’m not going to let up until I feel I’m living my true life and not getting the dregs, what other people toss out or couldn’t stomach.

The Post-Office Girl by Stefan Zweig