Monsters, Dirt and Pulling Things out of the Closet

I had a little more time today and decided to search the Internet... I came up to another one of those Tori excerpts which I find really interesting and useful so I have copied it here! Monsters, dirt and pulling things out of the closet.

I made a decision to stop being unconscious. And how you do that is you give yourself the keys to the unconscious room and you walk in and you go, 'What's up?' and all the little monsters come out with their party hats. [Sacramento Bee - May 8, 1992]

I think there’s so much emphasis on pushing things away, instead of pulling them out of the closet. A lot of times I just notice that people try to hide their dirt for as long as possible. Monsters, dirt, whatever you want to call it, the stuff that you censor and that you don’t really want to share with people. I think you can only do that for so long before you start losing your mind. I’m finding a lot of freedom right now in just looking at things that I really feel. We’re not encouraged to do that, and I think that that’s what makes people sick inside of themselves. You kind of want everybody else to think that you’re okay. Well, you’re okay if you have monsters! That’s what people don’t understand—everybody has many many voices going on inside of themselves. Now there is one voice, though, that is more of the ringleader, more of the innermost voice that isn’t trying to beat you up, or trying to make you feel like you can go slaughter 67 people and it’s okay. You know, the voice in there that goes, “hang on a minute, Tori, we’re really feeling lonely right now.” That inner inner voice is, to me, the most important because it can start being a bridge between all these other voices in your head. Everybody has them.

Being Sane...

...Richard paused beside an old woman, fast asleep in a shop doorway. She was covered with a ripped old blanket, and her few possessions - two small junk-filled cardboard boxes and a dirty, once-white umbrella - were tied together with string beside her, and the string was tied around her wrist to keep anyone from stealing them while she slept. She wore a wool hat, of no particular color.
He pulled out his wallet, found a ten-pound note, and bent down to slide the folded note into the woman's hand. Her eyes opened, and she jerked awake. She blinked at the money with old eyes. "What's this?" she said, sleepily, displeased at having been woken.
"Keep it," said Richard.
She unfolded the money, then pushed it up her sleeve. "Whatchyouwant?" she asked Richard suspiciously.
"Nothing," said Richard. "I really don't want anything. Nothing at all." And then he realized how true that was; and how dreadful a thing it had become. "Have you ever got everything you ever wanted? And then realized it wasn't what you wanted at all?"
"Can't say that I have," she said, picking the sleep from the corner of her eyes.
"I thought I wanted this," said Richard. "I thought I wanted a nice, normal life. I mean, maybe I am crazy. I mean, maybe. But if this is all there is, then I don't want to be sane. You know?"...

From NEVERWHERE by Neil Gaiman

Struggling...

I look in the mirror and I look out the window and I see myself and others struggling to be in our bodies. Struggling to know who we are and what we need. To like ourselves, rather than wanting to be somebody else, or somewhere else. I see our inability to relate, to communicate from the heart, to overcome our distance and alienation from one another. I see us avoiding each other's eyes, at a loss to know what others need. I see people searching for direction, trying to summon up their personal power, longing for the strength to be independent...

From Maps to Ecstasy, Gabrielle Roth