More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Life is nothing without suffering.
I’m talking about the quiet kind of suffering, reserved for the empty space between existing and living. Not pretty. Not sellable. Not inspirational. It’s more of a deafening ache that never abates.
Sometimes, existing in empty spaces can be fatal. But sometimes… it’s the only way to survive.
Where other kids my age had parents who picked them up from school and loved the very bones of them, I had nothing. For my father, I didn’t exist. All he wanted was to get high and forget that Mum had left us, destitute and heartbroken.
Pain doesn’t always make sense. Sometimes, it just… is.
“We mourn things that don’t exist and chase dreams that will never materialise. We cry when we’re happy and laugh when we’re sad. Our whole existence is imperfect.”
“For a long time, it felt like I couldn’t survive losing my dad. I felt so alone. Some days, I still feel like my world is ending. No matter how long I spend locked away where I can’t inconvenience anyone with my misery.”
“Broken wings can still fly. You are living proof of that.”
The miles I travelled to reach Briar Valley was the loneliest journey of my entire life.
