†

I really want to write, I mean why not? I’ve tried a few other ways of expressing myself but writing really isn’t one of my strengths.

“I don’t know” is a common answer for me these days, but I need to know. If I don’t, how do I expect anyone else to understand me, want to be around me or have anything to do with me. I really need to understand myself is what i’m saying. My moods are not secure, they’re flimsy, fragile as mosts are. But -writers block- mine, can change so easily, I blame my moods for my lack of friends, I really do, I mean why would you want to be around someone who you’re not sure with tell you to fuck off, laugh with you or just ignore you?

I’m generally a happy person, I can get pretty down and i’ve thought I was depressed for a couple of years back, but I don’t feel like that anymore. I don’t cut anymore. And I feel normal. I feel good. I know there’s a purpose in life and it’s to just. be. and hopefully to enjoy it in the process.

My parents. Ohh my parents, well. For the past 3 years or more my mum’s basically hated my father, and I really don’t blame her. After the earthquake, with the stress and my father being retired, my mother’s moved to a different country. Just like that, had a weeks notice and she was gone, 13 hours away from me. She can’t just do that, i’m going insane here, I really am. I don’t want to go into that.

†

"It all seems pointless in light of the fact that we’re all going to die eventually. Why do anything - why wash my hair, why spend time trying to get into the right schools, why dance to the music when all of us are just slouching toward the same inevitable conclusion?"

-Prozac Nation