This is how you lose her.

You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.

You must remember when she forgets.

You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.

She remembers when you forget.

You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.


You must learn her.

You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to. You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.

And, this is how you keep her.

I accepted love I didn't deserve because I couldn't bare the idea of living without him. So I was selfish and reached too high. It turns out he ways way too far from me all along. But I guess theres nothing we can do about the things we have to live without. Life gives happiness and life takes it away. Especially since it was the best thing thats ever happened to me like a miracle and experiencing the warmth of love and what it can be. Thank you for that, you're the first and perhaps the last. Because in the name of Charlie Brown, I've always been afraid of being happy because when you start being happy and worst... being too happy... too attached, bad things are bond to happens. I feel like I'm paying back a debt for the time I received from him, when I felt genuinely happy with him, and now I'm miserable and scared.

I got into a car accident today (some bitch t-boned me then went all banshee bat shit crazy on me with her posy while I was alone...awesome.) and next thing I know I'm in an ambulance to the hospital. I'm in the hospital but the physical pain is nothing compared to how I'm dying inside by the day. I've had so much blood taken from me to run tests and needles stuck in me. I really really do hate hospitals. I'm pretty sure part of the drip is like liquid "food" since I haven't been able to eat so my blood results came back last week as me being malnourished and anemic. If that shitty driver have hit the drivers side, it would have probably be game over for me with life. I wonder what it would be like if it was that way instead, so easy.

I guess I'll write more about the car accident and hospital tomorrow since it doesn't seem like I'm going to be discharged soon. and I have nothing to do here.. I really should have gotten life insurance, so at least if I die, my family will be set for most of their lives and I don't have to live with the burden of constantly trying to repay and redeem myself for my existence. This air thing they have over me making everything hard to see and I'm just so exhausted, so fed up with everything thats happening one thing after another. Hey life, I'm already down, will you stop fucking kicking and stomping all over me for now? I wish some day there will be better days...

I really need this year to end, I need a new start and recompose myself again. Theres a lot coming up huh, its making me depress just thinking about it. Sigh. Maybe I should really just pack a bag pack and book a one way flight to Europe somewhere and starve to death somewhere along the way probably. Either way, I need a change of pace and scene. I need new beginnings and second chances to pursue what little goals I have left. Unfortunately I don't have any of that or access to that. One day... Just one day if I disappear, I hope I'll be in somewhere overseas far away from here.

Labels: alive, alone, bad days, death, depressed, falling, frustration, health, hurt, insanity, insomnia, mentality, quotes

“Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it
Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly
That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Labels: alone, bad days, books, death, depression, escapism, growing up, innocence, letting go, life, lost, love, perks of being a wallflower, poem, quotes, sad

I'm so pathetic and helpless up until the very end. I'm not as strong as I pretend to be and I'm more foolish than you think. It's all killing me inside out. I can feel the piercing pain and burns from the way you cruelly left me hanging in tears and indifference I receive when I try to contact you. I was so niave to believe in everything you told me. Built me up so high in your pedestal of who you thought I was and I'm falling harder than ever without anyone to help me up again. Why did you start all those promises and got me to believe in you only to give up on me so easily. I'm such a fucking joke or probably just a complete tool.

In the end, I was the only one shamelessly fighting for our love and to keep you. While I'm not worth a second look or turning back Everything was just pretty words and I still fall for them every single time if its coming from you who got me to believe in you so much. I should have known better, but I thought life was finally paying off and the best thing thats ever happened to me has finely found me out of all the people in this world and its massive population, we found each other. Its was like a miracle stepping stone to our happiness. I truly believed that. That life was finally turning around and he was going to be the man who saves me from myself.


I lived for him and I would die for him or us. It's way easier to die for someone than it is to live for them. Life is so tiresome and serves as a challenge everyday just trying to make it to the next day. I tried my best to live for us and our false future you implanted as part of the ideas that made me think you were the one. You were the answer; You're my escapism. You're never going to give up on me the way I gave up on myself. Living for someone you love is way harder than one can imagined you have to totally surrender yourself at some point and put that person ahead of you regardless and unconditionally. Until the very moment I fully let go and you have my life and heart under your power and possession. Whats left of the life in me was in your hands; Right there for you to crush and step all over anytime you want.

You really had me going. You were my addiction and maybe if I didn't so desperately want you and your attention attention and time all the time like I'm just some house pet, you'd respect me more and I can have a bit more self respect. In the end, I am nothing. Who the hell did I think I was? I was so in over my head.  Maybe this is all I deserve in the end. To be abandoned easily in a blink of an eye like two day old garbage without any chance or hope. Being entirely cut off with no one to talk to or getting nothing but silent treatment and cold shoulders. You're hurting me so much more than you know. If that was the intention, congratulations you have succeeded prosperously. Take my broken heart as your trophy and put it in your shoe box.


Maybe this was the so call 'love' I deserve in the end and thats what it was all building up to. Still even if I don't deserve any of your love, the way you broke me down was so cruel it still pains me every time I think about it. It still drives me crazy every moment of the day, reminding myself that it's my fault for opening up so much. I should't have showed the real me, no one will actually love who I really am as if I'm some trophy they want to show off their influence o.Very often people are attracted to people who are assholes or broken or damaged, people they have no business getting involved with to begin with but they do it for the thrill and challenge of wanting to change someone's life with their own hands and dictate over it.

I've lost count of how many people I've come  across in my life who always have some kind of input on how to so easily solve whats wrong with me and fix my world and so they think they know me better than myself about about my condition as if its easy as 1, 2, 3 just follow their directions and they know whats best when in reality they have no idea what you are going through. Every single asshole always wants to give their 2 cents on situations and every single one think they they whats best for someone more than that person itself. How can anyone justify their behavior on trying to inflict their personal opinion onto someone else. Seeing it and observing it from your point of view is often very different than having to live with it too. So their forceful behavior end up hurting me in the worst way possible instead of helping. And apparently me, as the individual who actually has to put up with what is insisted gets no say even though I'm personally going through the situation and problems  know whats better for   than the person itself when they are a 3rd party individual who has never gone through the same thing the person is inflicted with and don't know what its really like to be the person itself. They just insist and force it onto the person of conflict because believe their way is the correct way.

In other words simply put, the third party is  basically telling the person how to feel or respond to situations and what makes them happy or not. Dictating their behavior and what they have to put up with. Shouldn't the person themselves feel the reaction of what is forced upon them? Yes they do. And it hurts like fuck,its breaking my heart but the moment I say something, it means I'm just being difficult as always, I'm picking fights, I never listen to anyone else. How about letting the person living that life decide? I can't even express the mental pain it causes me without being accused of being difficult and uncompromising... when the 3rd person starting with the insisting and dominant behaior one who is interfering and insisting their opinion on something that does not directly effect them. Is it to show of your power over the other person you created and tamed? But often times they don't realize they more damage they can fathom to the person who is already broken by treating them like an inferior being that way. People just want a go at it like I'm some science experiment. They want to change me and fix me. And when things get too difficult or complicated, they can just up and leave as always.. But guess what? so hurt me, taint me, deceive me and break me. I;n all yours and I still love you regardless So hurt me if that vilifies the pain i've caused you. Sp I'll still love you and you can keep hurting me as I watch from afar. I can already see that anytime I bring up a concern that is hurting me I just get shut down and bombarded with you're the same person you always was you'll never change as a person for us to e be able to get along. That its all my fault. I'm willing to break myself trying for us. I'm willing to compromise everything and just be a rag doll. But I thought the trying was suppose to be both ways... why do I only feel like I'm walking on eggshells discussing it. That I have to be so cautious of what I say so I don't piss you off easily again and give you another reason to tell me why I am no good and don't deserve another chance...I thought we agree to be more open minded for each other and to be more lenient and understand and treat each other well but so far, eventually somewhere into the conversation I feel like I'm being treated like crap but I don't even want to bother mentioning anything because god forbid if I'm not 150% ok with everything being done.

I waited so long for what we have to happen and I want us to be happy but so far nothing will bring the person who claims to love me around and try along with me to make things work. Its always he needs time away from me, why would you want more time away from a person you love that you barely get to see or talk to as it is? So much for wanting to be smothered with my love and not being scared. I think I'm already overdue and expired on the person of interest list perhaps. I waited in the silence and I seem to be having to do that a lot lately just for a chance at any conversation. I did it for 8 years silently in the background, I can do it for another 8 won't make a difference. Although I'd most likely die before that time comes.. But nothing matters if I'm the only one who wants things to be ok and want to be happy together and believe in it. The whole point is to keep our relationship together and not regress to a state where we stop talking again over every little thing. I just wish it would stop and we can stop worrying so much about every single little thing. I just want to remember that I  love you more than the universe and once upon a time you did too, so just hug and kiss me and not let anything get in between our most sacred bond of all. I'm happy so long as you never stop loving me and always want my love as well. Everything else is just details to it. Our love should be beyond that and these pity things shouldn't phase.

I just want to scream and rip out my hair out sometimes when we fail to see the bigger picture; that all these fucking things don't matter in the end, our love prevails it. I just want to hold you and forget about everything else. I just want to be lost in each other's presence and eyes. and stop stressing out so much about things that really aren't fundamental in the end. who throws away genuine love with that strong of a bond that with any indications life seems to have brought us together and kept it strong within us all these years. That should triumph over any fight and everything.  I'm happy as long as I end up with him. even during bad days as long as we have each other to crawl into bed with, we wake up anew. These grudges and overly magnified details shouldn't even come close to being able to side track our love, but somehow you let it do that... try to come around and remember all that we are first. I think sometimes we forget and take it for granted. I believe in it and I want to believe in us.  I want both of us to fight for not, not just me trying to call you pathetically day by day while you ignore my calls. As I write this I keep thinking how did we let ourselves go like this and choose to be so harsh to the other person; because right now all I want and choose is you first above all.

When we look at it overall on the things we are so preoccupied on being hung up on who's right or wrong or when if ever can we forgive each other, it all seems very trivial and petty compared to the love we have to begin with. Let's not forget about that while picking up rocks around it. I just think of our bond as the core and love that holds us together thats the most important and to never give up on each other and forget the main bond and love.  I don't even know if I'm making any sense. I don't want to "argue" anymore though so I hope one day he sees what I see in us. the magnitude of our love and bond and how everything is just a detail compared to it. What matters the most is how much we love each other, please come around and see that, then you'll understand why I miss you all the time and want to see you above all and need you in my life. We both need to realize that because we love each other so much we should be able to sit down and talk calmly about other things that concern us without having to break up several times a month because of those little things. I'm not saying that the greater picture is a viable excuse to get away with everything in a relationship, but its the first time we hit currents so hard like these and theres no excuse not to give it our best effort and try. To put ourselves out there even if it might hurt ourselves, we need to do it for each other to show what we are capable of. Use failing to realize this concept or not being able to do so much right now isnt a reason to give up instantly. Nothing worth having in life comes easy. We can approach it from another angle. We only live once, remember?

Labels: alone, breaking everything, death, depressed, frustration, goo goo dolls, letting go, lost, love, mentality, mistakes, sorrow, sorry, truths

Labels: alone, breaking everything, death, depressed, fucked up, goo goo dolls, hurt, insomnia, letting go, lies, lost, lyrics, mistakes, relationships, sad

I write like I think and... English was never one of my strong subjects. It gets worst, after I write an entry I keep re-reading it and editing it. Minor mistakes and the fact that I can't articulate a sentence at all keeps my OCD going. Read, edit, read, edit, get distracted, read, edit, read, "you're such a fucking idiot", rage quit. Then repeat. How do people go about this. I feel like I just shot myself in the fucking foot for doing this. Everything bothers me.

Starting a blog was suppose to be an outlet for me to vent. Just for myself so I can clear my mind and organize my thoughts. Apparently Dumbledore had a bowl that holds his memories for him, he just deposits it like its a fucking memory bank or something. Where can I get one of those? I wasn't sure where to begin so I started writing down random things are running through my head. I can't keep up with my mind at all. If only my days were more eventful. I'd have something to chronicle my life journeys and my awesome youthful years about. I laughed at myself writing that. It's just so my content isn't entirely me talking to myself, spewing my opinions all over the place and skipping topics. Yeah, because my feelings and opinions are more important than yours. At least here.

Labels: books, death, drama, hate

Grandma you are wrong. The answer to sleeping isn't counting sheeps, but I'll forgive because you're an old fashion lady. Plus I find it rather cute when I imagine you counting sheeps when you try to sleep. But you see, counting sheeps doesn't help and I can't seem to keep up with the damn numbers. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 11, uh what the fuck...where am I up to again? I wonder who came up with the stupid idea of counting sheeps anyway. Fuck. Now I'll have to get up and google this. The monitor is blinding. It's actually more work trying to keep track of whatever the fuck number you're on than to just settle and be a cabbage for the night. What haven't I done out of desperation. Great, now my head hurts because my memory has been shit. I don't really know what to blame that on to be honest. It maybe because I try not to think too much and slowly my brain has become dysfunctional. I didn't want to believe those pricks who preach that education should always be continuous. If you've been out of school for too long, you'll never go back. Fuck it, I don't want to believe it. Not until I really try and ultimately fail, then I may come to terms with it. I'm still holding on by a string but not going for it entirely because trying actually means I'll find out once and for all if I'm actually hopeless after all. It's already on my to do list. Now I just have to grow some balls and actually do it.

In the other hand, it may be the excessive ambien use, or the nights when I forget and take a couple more like it's candy. I'm addicted, but I'm more addicted to the idea of actually having a piece of mind that I'll be able to sleep and not think to myself staring at the ceiling until the sunrises. Not that morning would make a difference, it'd just be annoyingly bright. I'm never fully asleep or awake. If somehow I live long enough, I wonder whats the next 20 years of my life going to be like. Thoughts that preoccupy most of my days is "how am I going to get to sleep tonight?" Well, I don't want to spend my entire fucking day worrying about how I'm going to sleep. It's a natural process, I should be able to do it. Sleep is my handicap. Just go the fuck to sleep. Not working.

It simply started with me trying her prescription. It was fucking magic. I've never been put out like that, sleep whenever you want? What the hell? Best thing since sliced bread. It's my cure for cancer. She never fought me about it either, mostly because she was never around or had the time to confront me. She knew I was doing it, I just gave her constant excuses of how it'll help me get my life together. It didn't, it just helped me get through the day knowing, "If I just get through this shit, at least I can call it a day", then shut myself off at my convenience. Fucking perfect.

Then there was the night I broke down, I called her. And you can bet I freaked the fuck out. I was hysterical. Just jabbering on about how I can't take it anymore. She told me she couldn't enable me anymore. That she realized she's helping me kill myself. I hated her and resented her so much, for not buying into my bullshit. She said I needed help or at least go in for a check up. It went from screaming and anger to crying. Both of us. I haven't seen you cry in a long time. I don't know if I cried because it was the first time since I was hospitalized that she showed she cared about me, its been 6 years since then. Or if I was crying because I resented her and most of what I can think about is how can she do this to me. How can she let me stay in this hell, this shithole I dug myself into. I did this to myself, but what haven't I tried. I finally found an answer but it wasn't the solution.



But hey, guess what? I still fucking love you. You just don't know it.

I guess it's kind of like men who have sex without a condom for the first time. They never want to use it again after that experience but that's how you fuck your life up. Kids, ew. Well, in my case, I had my first taste, found a temporary cure but it fucked me over anyway. Kids without the kids! I don't know what the hell I'm talking about.

After a week of cleaning, yes cleaning and you know what that means. Apocalypse now. I finally got hauled off to the doctor. I've always avoided doctors, I was registered under my pediatrician since I was 5 until I was 20, hah. He still doesn't know anything about me. You're a good man, just stop trying to give me tylenol for everything. The man would give me tylenol if I showed up in his office with a bullet right in me. Stop patronizing me because of age, life or future. It's already fucked up. The last thing he said to me was "Wow, you've really grown into a woman now." And that was the last time I saw him. I'm such an asshole, I should have bought him some chocolates or whatever doctors enjoy eating. Organic chocolates? Spinach and caviar? Who the hell knows.

I transferred to one of those ancient doctors who should have checked out long ago, but it's ok, we won't be seeing eachother much. He's this old man that's always nodding and repeatedly saying "hokay...mhm.." then sighed occasionally nodding his head. I still wonder if he knows what the fuck I'm trying to tell him half the time. It's impersonal, but it's ok. I'm not trying to be your best friend, just fix me. At least physically. So I got a referral. Lo and behold, I got put on the same shit. It's ok, it was what I was aiming for anyway, but I've been looking for something different. These pills aren't working anymore.

Sorry, I'm a bastard. Just please be happy yourself. I'll try to pretend to be normal for you. I know times were hard.

I've been experimenting with different medicine that may help me sleep and finally tamper off ambien. Unfortunately my psychiatrist is a grimmy bitch. Well, she wasn't to begin with but as of the day before yesterday, she is.

"I can't put you on both of these medicines because they can become addictive so we have to work out which one you need to be on."  Okay, that's fine, you're just going to torture me for another month trying different garbage to cover your ass. It's the system, whatever. Then comes the part that fucking blew my mind. I was speechless. "Also, because your father was an alcoholic, you'd probably be more susceptible to getting addicted to things easily." ...really?

What. The. Fuck.  I never use anything recreationally on a consistently and I've tried most of the shit out there multiple times. If I were to be prone to addiction, I'd be a fucking head banging hallucinating cracked out hippie by now. It's boring, I don't care for any of it.  What I do care about, is not being fucking miserable all day trying to get by the hour. For that, I will try just about anything even if it includes someone punching me in the face to knock me out cold. Oh wait, there is one thing or a few things I have no self control about: procrastination, competitively gaming and smoking. I acknowledged it and quit playing anything all together. Damn, can't be fucking pro now but none of those bad habits will lead me to waking up naked in a poncho at some dump. So it's all good. Really, it's all good. Not really.

I wasn't sure if I should have flipped the fuck out right there, throw a fit or have a tantrum. I was at lost for words and my mind went blank. It wasn't until after I left the office that the scenario kept playing in my head over and over again. As usual, best fucking broken record ever. Now in addition to resenting her and being bitter, I also get to hate myself. I should have said something. Why can't you fucking just say it. "It's okay if you want to use my well-being, my life or my yet to exist future as an excuse. But do not fucking associate or put me in the same category as my father. You should know better than to say this to your patients. You should take your PhD and shove it up your ass." Nope, I was just dumbfounded and left. And now I can't forgive myself, "so why didn't you say shit, captain courage?" ..fuck you brain.

Labels: books, death, drama, failure, hate, kamekaze girls, ozaki, sports, yoko kanno

I was once discussing with a friend about my ideal way of dying- to be launched into outer space and asphyxiate with nothingness in empty space. I haven't contemplated the possible gruesome details, but who cares. Sounds awesome. My best friend in high school spoke of this as well. Dying in style, instead of accidental deaths like my scenario of a frozen poultry falling from the freezer and knocking you the fuck out to hell. Now, that's lame. Show up in hell- "So how did you get here?" "Got killed by a chicken". Not that any of this makes sense. No one knows where you're going to go when you die. Have you ever been dead? No. So I'm sure it'd be safe to assume that I don't have the slightest fucking idea of what I'm going on about.

Well at least now I know if I ever make it to be a filthy rich hateful old lady in the future, this is what I'm gonna spend it on. Launch me to space so I can die bitches.

At some point I was bored so I tried to piece together how dying from asphyxiation, strangulation or drowning works. Shouldn't it be the same? But then people say death by drowning is the worst, might just be all the water going up your nose and shit. I can't even tolerate water going up my nose in a bath so I imagine it's pretty fucking bad. The rest I imagine would probably be struggling then slowly drifting off into unconsciousness, the end.

The whole dying in space idea reminds me of a song I've had since 2005. 新居昭乃 - スプートニク (Akino Arai - Sputnik) The whole thing just made me really depress. Seriously, sometimes I think I have more sympathy for animals than humans. Not the PETA kind though. Those people are seriously just batshit crazy sometimes and go overboard. Haha, reminds me of the South Park episode about PETA.

"Sputnik II was one of the first artificial satellites in space. It's only passenger was a dog. Launched November 3rd, 1957 by the Soviets. The dog never made it back to the Earth alive.


The first living creature to enter orbit was a female part-Samoyed terrier originally named Kudryavka (Little Curly) but later renamed Laika ("Barker"). Laika was selected from ten candidates at the Air Force Institute of Aviation Medicine, because of her even temperament. She weighed about 6 kg (13 lb). The pressurized cabin on Sputnik 2 allowed enough room for her to lie down or stand and was padded. An air regeneration system provided oxygen; food and water were dispensed in a gelatinized form. Laika was fitted with a harness, a bag to collect waste, and electrodes to monitor vital signs. Early telemetry indicated Laika was agitated but eating her food. In October 2002 it was revealed by Russian sources that Laika had already died after a few hours from overheating and stress, not suffocation, as is commonly believed. If neither had taken place, Russian Mission Control had planned to euthanize Laika with poisoned food, as she would have burned up in the atmosphere during re-entry."

Labels: death, music, poetry

I write like I think and... English was never one of my strong subjects. It gets worst, after I write an entry I keep re-reading it and editing it. Minor mistakes and the fact that I can't articulate a sentence at all keeps my OCD going. Read, edit, read, edit, get distracted, read, edit, read, "you're such a fucking idiot", rage quit. Then repeat. How do people go about this. I feel like I just shot myself in the fucking foot for doing this. Everything bothers me.

Starting a blog was suppose to be an outlet for me to vent. Just for myself so I can clear my mind and organize my thoughts. Apparently Dumbledore had a bowl that holds his memories for him, he just deposits it like its a fucking memory bank or something. Where can I get one of those? I wasn't sure where to begin so I started writing down random things are running through my head. I can't keep up with my mind at all. If only my days were more eventful. I'd have something to chronicle my life journeys and my awesome youthful years about. I laughed at myself writing that. It's just so my content isn't entirely me talking to myself, spewing my opinions all over the place and skipping topics. Yeah, because my feelings and opinions are more important than yours. At least here.

Labels: books, death, drama, hate