February21.2004/445pm I'm not in control of my thoughts and feelings, I just....whatever, I just react to things, and I don't know how else to live. I know that I deserve to be absolutely alone. February20.2004/1105pm Jesus Christ, tonight was a disaster. There was some fun, and it was good, but the whole time all I could think of was that Anna was sitting somewhere else being angry with me and it made me want to die and I hate making choices when I have no idea what's going on, and I don't want to give her reason to be mad at me ever again. Also, I fucking love Anna. And John. And being the third wheel to Anna and John is better than a whole lot of things and I love it alot. And things are good, but I cried all the way home anyway and I have no idea why. I'm too stressed out about too many things....Everyone that I'm getting close to right now, I'm going to lose,and we'll all go in different directions...and I think about it everyday and it's just..it's torture, and it's ridiculous and I hate it and I can't not think about it anymore. I hate being that person who cares too fucking much. February17.2004/805pm I want to be writing again. Some things don't belong on deviantArt. I need to buy some real webspace, I think, but then I'd have to do real HTML, and i don't know, I sort of do it but I'm not sure how much this does for me, and I'm lazy and useless. The Cure:To wish impossible things Remember how it used to be When the sun would fill up the sky Remember how we used to feel Those days would never end Those days would never end Remember how it used to be When the stars would fill the sky Remember how we used to dream Those nights would never end Those nights would never end It was the sweetness of your skin It was the hope of all we might have been That filled me with the hope to wish To wish impossible things To wish impossible things But now the sun shines cold And all the sky is grey The stars are dimmed by clouds and tears And all I wish is gone away All I wish is gone away All I wish is gone away December21.2003/805pm delete, delete, delete. It should take longer than this for me to hate myself for the things that I've written. I don't know how I maintain any self respect at all.. I don't want words right now. Not mine, not anyone's. god, I just hate everything I have ever done right now. Everything I've made is trite And cheap And a waste... of paint, of space, of time [bright eyes, waste of paint]