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When I took seroquel it was alright for sleep, but I felt like I was moving through syrup for most of the day. I swear my thinking could have been preserved in amber.
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I was drawn to all the wrong things: I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn't have a god, politics, ideas, ideals. I was settled into nothingness; a kind of non-being, and I accepted it. I didn't make for an interesting person. I didn't want to be interesting, it was too hard. What I really wanted was only a soft, hazy space to live in, and to be left alone. ~ Charles Bukowski
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