Simply Me

最近正在看這本書，中譯名叫「巴別塔之犬」
有一小段的description很貼進我的心裡，everyone has its dark side. OK, maybe it's just me.
I don't know myself, sometimes I even hate myself of being who I am with no reason.
And this is a paragraph from this novel wrote:

Suicide is just a moment, Lexy told me. 
This is how she described it to me.
For just a moment, it doesn't matter that you've got people who love you 
and the sun is shining and there's a movie coming out this weekend 
that you've been dying to see.It hits you all of a sudden 
that nothing is ever going to be okay,ever, and you kind of dare yourself: Is this it? 
You start thinking that you've known this was coming all along,
but you don't know if today's going to be the day. 
And if you think about it too much, it's probably not.
 But you dare yourself. You pick up a kife and press it gently to your
skin, you look out a nineteenth-story window 
and you think,I could just do it. I could just do it. 
And most of the time, you look at the height 
and you get scared,or you think about the poor people on the sidewalk below - 
what if there are kids coming home from school and they have to spend 
the rest of their lives trying to forget this terrible thing you're going to make them see?
And the moment's over. You think about how sad it would've been if you
never got to see that movie, and you look at your dog and wonder who 
would've taken care of her if you had gone. And you go back to normal. 
But you keep it there in your mind. Even if you never take yourself up on it, 
it gives you a kind of comfort to know that the day is yours to choose. 
You tuck it away in your brian like sour candy tucked in your cheek, 
and the puckering memory it leaves behind, 
the rough pleasure of ruuning your tongue over its strange terrain, is exactly the same. 
This is what we know, those of us who can speak to tell a story.

- Carolyn Parkhusrt,2003