It's my head and I'll cry if I want to.

Why can't things go according to my fairytales, even just once? Why do they have to be shattered, time and time again? Nothing's ever as good as it seems. My love for fiction and romance has ruined my perception on life and the continuous dissappointment in even the smallest of hopes has driven me to a near catatonic state of mind.

At the moment I'm rather fed up with the whole emotion thing and about to fully dive into my old, familiar stoic stupor. I like the whole happiness thing that comes with it all, but I'm really not
all that fond of having it snatched away before I've even tasted it properly, only to be replaced by the most horrid stuff imaginable.

I'm completely bewildered how people live through this.. shit. SHIT. Not in a suicidal way,
before you think I'm on that road again, it's just that holy fucking shit how the hell do they get that strong.

My eyes resemble the Niagara Waterfalls and I've almost bitten my lip off, and I don't even know why. Or which of so many things, or what exactly.

I found a friend, though. She's real. She stroked my hair while I despaired.

She bests me in so many things I can't even begin to compare and I always feel like I'm the teensiest of little spoiled rotten brats when with her. Sometimes she makes me feel worthless and sometimes that makes me mad, but at least it does something to me. She also motivates me like no wrath has ever done and understands me better than I do myself, which is actually incredibly annoying if you keep denying it, like I do. I'm not sure how she has so much room for others what with all that's going on in her head already but I'll do everything that's in my power to keep that little me-place. I don't think she knows what a big deal this whole friendship thing is for me but after having read this I hope she has a clue. Thank you, girl. I owe you.

Men are cunts. They suck and smell and aren't all that but from fantasy's point of view they're irresistible. You're fine, or better than fine, as long as you're with one and they're deceitful enough to keep you wanting one when they're not there, but if I could collect and cash all the credit that's wasted on men I wouldn't ever have to worry about all that earthly stuff like money.

I love and hate money as much as I do men.

I'm all for adventure and the whole I'll-see-where-I-end-up-thing but I could do with some certainty right now.