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288 pages, Library Binding
First published January 1, 2011
“While I don’t want to talk to people much lately, their presence is a safety net. I know there’s no danger that I’ll do anything bad to myself when anyone else is around.
Not that I would anyway but...I mean, I won’t. I know I won’t, but it can’t hurt to have that extra safety mechanism.
So I go to school and stay there, even though everyone around me and everything they say and do feels pointless and/or stupid, like it doesn’t matter whether they say/do it or not. Whatever whatever WHATEVER whatever whatever WHATEVER. It’s not their fault that they don’t matter but that’s what it feels like: Whatever whatever WHATEVER whatever whatever WHATEVER whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever” page 137-138, Breckon’s POV.

If I'm talking to myself, there much be a me. That in itself is a revelation. I exist.
I wonder, did I ever, in the last year or so of my life that I've yet to remember, get wrecked like this with my friends?
I can't really understand why anyone would want to. Dancing, eating, playing video games and making out with someone you're into all seem like things that are just as much fun when you're sober, and as far as I can see being drunk only makes you loud and/or dumb.
There's a kind of peace in the stillness of the moment that I wonder if Breckon feels.
That's all I do with him, watch and wonder. If I was still alive and knew him, would I be able to do more