Sometimes I like to yell really loud just because I can.

I can't decide if the way I feel is really self inflicted or if it's really the way I feel. It's this process in my mind that goes something like: If I don't feel hurt then that must mean I don't care. I have to care, because if I don't, then I must not be a real human being.

I mean what kind of twisted mental idea is THAT? It's disgusting. I feel disgusting. I'm garbage.

She's always so attracted to people that treat her badly or were never there for her. She'll regret it in the long run. She really will. This is only temporary. I guess I am too. Everything really is if you want to get technical. Life. Love. Children. Everything eventually dies. I think that's the whole "bittersweet" effect of life. You have something ... that's sweet...but then it dies....that's bitter.

He may have been a shitty boyfriend, but he was the only real friend I had. He was honest- which is something so hard to come by in people these days. Maybe honesty wasn't what I always needed to hear from him, but I can appreciate it...no matter how much it hurt. Seems like everyone kind of dies off these days, even the people you thought would be there until you did die. I've always thought I was better off alone, regardless of the fact that I'm a libra and according to that I need constant social encounters. I find that hard to believe. I'd rather be alone than in a room of liars.