There are times when I am in love with nearly everyone I see. On the bus a boy I awkwardly stood next to at the bus stop yelled something, laughing, but I couldn't hear him above the music in my ears. I imagine that he is simply in love with the world, completely apathetic to the people who stare at him as he laughs aloud. I am trying to write a ( Read more... )

I am vaguely sick and subsequently find that I have time to think. Drugged, uncomfortable, suffocating thought. I usually avoid this part. Lately I have been writing in my blank journals daily, sometimes more. I am trying to retain, to create some kind of evidence so that in five, ten years I will have tangible documentation of who I am now. ( Read more... )

I really don't know how much longer I can keep doing this.

My room is yellow. I once read that prologued exposure to the color yellow has been found to facilitate feelings of depression. Hot diggity. My bed is too large and red, and I fill it with pillows at night so that I can sleep without feeling alone. I have decided to be more honest in future, because while extreme privacy comforts me it does little ( Read more... )

Oh, just shut up.