Here I am, deciding which possesions I really need, and which ones I only wish I could keep. Uncovering forgotten childhood memories, only to toss them into a box to be sent off to Goodwill. Emptying and disassembling bookshelves, and wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. I've been unusually cheery to everyone, even though I feel anything ( Read more... )

It's been established that I'm a pussy. I don't like being strung along though, and I can tell when I'm being lied to. I'm getting really tired of this game.

You ever get the feeling that you're being used, but he/she doesn't know it?
Becuase it's kind of annoying.

It's just a number, except not.
I dread turning forty.

If you told me a year ago that I would be here, I would have slapped you, but actually being there isn't so great. I regret absolutley everything and yet I make progress. This fact makes me feel bad about feeling bad when I should be feeling good when I feel bad about feeling good.

Knowing what to do and not doing it.