Invisible Monsters: “The only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open.”
Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk on Cosmic Quotes
Fuck me. I’m so tired of being me. Me beautiful. Me ugly. Blonde. Brunette. A million fucking fashion makeovers that only leave me trapped being me. Who I was before the accident is just a story now. Everything before now, before now, before now, is just a story I carry around. I guess that would apply to anybody in the world. What I need is a new story about who I am. What I need to do is fuck up so bad I can’t save myself.
Find what you’re afraid of most and go live there.
Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I’ve ever known.
Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish.
No matter how careful you are, there’s going to be the sense you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn’t experience it all. There’s that fallen heart feeling that you rushed right through the moments where you should’ve been paying attention. Well, get used to that feeling. That’s how your whole life will feel some day. This is all practice.
Your birth is a mistake you’ll spend your whole life trying to correct.
The best way is not to fight it, just go. Don’t be trying all the time to fix things. What you run from only stays with you longer. When you fight something, you only make it stronger.
Sometimes your best way to deal with shit is not to hold yourself as such a precious little prize.
When you understand, that what you’re telling is just a story. It isn’t happening anymore. When you realize the story you’re telling is just words, when you can just crumble up and throw your past in the trashcan, then we’ll figure out who you’re going to be.
The only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open.
Find good in what the world says is evil.
Be famous. Be a big social experiment in getting what you don’t want. Find value in what we’ve been taught is worthless. Find good in what the world says is evil. I’m giving you my life because I want the whole world to know you. I wish the whole world would embrace what it hates. Find what you’re afraid of most and go live there.
The books on plastic surgery, the pamphlets and brochures all promised to help me live a more normal, happy life; but less and less, this looked like what I’d want. What I wanted looked more and more like what I’d always been trained to want. What everybody wants.
Give me attention.
Give me beauty.
Give me peace and happiness, a loving relationship, and a perfect home.
Brandy says, “The best way is not to fight it, just go. Don’t be trying all the time to fix things. What you run from only stays with you longer. When you fight something, you only make it stronger.”
She says, “Don’t do what you want.” She says, “Do what you don’t want. Do what you’re trained not to want.”
It’s the opposite of following your bliss.
Brandy tells me, “Do the things that scare you the most.”
If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character… Would you slow down? Or speed up?
All God does is watch us and kill us when we get boring. We must never, ever be boring.
When did the future switch from being a promise to being a threat?
Most times, it’s just a lot easier not to let the world know what’s wrong.
Oh love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me. I’ll be anybody you want me to be.
I thought we were a real love relationship. I did. I was very invested in love, but it was just this long long sex thing that could end at any moment because after all, it’s just about getting off. Almost all the time, you tell yourself you’re loving somebody when you’re just using them. This only looks like love.
No matter how much you think you love somebody, you’ll step back when the pool of their blood edges up too close.
We’ll be remembered more for what we destroy than what we create.
Make me into anything, but just love me.
Parents are like God because you wanna know they’re out there, and you want them to think well of you, but you really only call when you need something.
The only reason why we ask other people how their weekend was is so we can tell them about our own weekend.
The idea that I can’t share my problems with other people makes me not give a shit about their problems.
You only ask people about themselves so you can tell them about yourself.
People are all over the world telling their one dramatic story and how their life has turned into getting over this one event. Now their lives are more about the past than their future.
But if you tell folks you’re a college student, folks are so impressed. You can be a student in anything and not have to know anything. Just say toxicology or marine biokinesis, and the person you’re talking to will change the subject to himself. If this doesn’t work, mention the neural synapses of embryonic pigeons.
I’m not sure what we’re running from. Nobody. Or the future. Fate. Growing up. Getting old. Picking up the pieces. As if running we won’t have to get on with our lives.
The most boring thing in the entire world is nudity. The second most boring thing is honesty.
My point is, that if I’m honest, my life is all about me.
Give me lust, baby.
Give me malice.
Give me detached existentialist ennui.
Give me rampant intellectualism as a coping mechanism.
Besides, it happens fast for some people and slow for some, accidents or gravity, but we all end up mutilated. Most women know this feeling of being more and more invisible everyday.
Your being born makes your parents God. You owe them your life, and they can control you. Then puberty makes you Satan, just because you want something better.
You can only hold a smile for so long, after that it’s just teeth.
Hysteria is impossible without an audience. Panicking by yourself is the same as laughing alone in an empty room. You feel really silly.
I hate how I don’t feel real enough unless people are watching.
When you understand that what you’re telling is just a story. It isn’t happening anymore. When you realize the story you’re telling is just words, when you can just crumble it up and throw your past in the trashcan, then we’ll figure out who you’re going to be.
I’m not straight, and I’m not gay. I’m not bisexual. I want out of the labels. I don’t want my whole life crammed into a single word. A story. I want to find something else, unknowable, some place to be that’s not on the map. A real adventure.
The photographer in my head says:
Give me peace.
Give me release.
Only when we eat up this planet will God give us another. We’ll be remembered more for what we destroy than what we create.
All these thousands of miles later, all these different people I’ve been, and it’s still the same story. Why is it you feel like a dope if you laugh alone, but that’s usually how you end up crying? How is it you can keep mutating and still be the same deadly virus?
“Tell the world what scares you the most” says Brandy.
She gives us each an Aubergine Dreams eyebrow pencil and says “Save the world with some advice from the future.”
Seth writes on the back of a card and hands the card to Brandy for her to read.
“On game shows, Brandy reads, some people will take the trip to France, but most people will take the washer dryer pair.”
Brandy puts a big Plumbago kiss in the little square for the stamp and lets the wind lift and card and sail it off toward the towers of downtown Seattle.
Seth hands her another, and Brandy reads:
“Game shows are designed to make us feel better about the random useless facts that are all we have left from our education.”
A kiss and the card’s on it’s way toward Lake Washington.
“When did the future switch from being a promise to being a threat?”
A kiss and it’s off on the wind toward Ballard.
“Only when we eat up this planet will God give us another. We’ll be remembered more for what we destroy than what we create.”
Interstate 5 snakes by in the distance. From high atop the Space Needle, the southbound lanes are red chase lights, and the northbound lanes are white chase lights. I take a card and write:
“I love Seth Thomas so much I have to destroy him. I overcompensate by worshipping the queen supreme. Seth will never love me. No one will ever love me ever again.”
Beandy is waiting to rake the card and read it out loud. Brandy’s waiting to read my worst fears to the world, but I don’t give her the card. I kiss it myself with the lips I don’t have and let the wind take it out of my hand. The card flies up, up, up to the stars and then falls down to land in the suicide net.
While I watch my future trapped in the suicide net Brandy reads another card from Seth.
“We are all self-composting.”
I write another card from the future and Brandy reads it:
“When we don’t know who to hate, we hate ourselves.”
An updraft lifts up my worst fears from the suicide net and lifts them away.
Seth writes and Brandy reads.
“You have to keep recycling yourself.”
I write and Brandy reads.
“Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everybody I’ve ever known.”
I write and Brandy reads.
“The one you love and the one who loves you are never ever the same person.”