It's about seven o'clock here... it's so quiet. I'm all alone as usual. The only sounds around are the soft hum of my computer,and my breath as I inhale yet another cancer stick.
I see so many wonderful webpages as I surf around. And I think to myself, god, I wish I would have thought of that. Shit. No matter what I do to these pages, I always find somebody's page that I like better than my own. Figures. I thought I was such a deep person. But maybe I'm just ordinary. Do you have to be wallowing in self hatred to be deep? And another thing, why is it that I can write great poetry when I'm depressed or lusting after someone, but when I try to write about my true love, I just can't seem to put it into words. I hate that. I think he hates it too.
I want to be that classy woman who wears a smile and means it. I want to be friendly and I want to help those less fortunate. But I want to be that person wallowing in self hatred again too. I hate not being able to be both. Ha, maybe I should move back in with my parents and try to relive what it was like in high school. At least then I'd be writing great poetry again. But I can't. And I can't write happy stuff either even though I am happy. Why is it that I thrive on depression? Am I totally fucked in the head to want to be depressed and dancing on cloud nine at the same time?
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