i make a new journal every time I tell anyone of an existing one of mine. it's like some self-destructive tendency that keeps me going though.
saving pennies for the sidekick now.
all these naievettes are pathetic in their bubbles of sincerity. give me a break. no one'll care when you trip when you talk to that boy, no one'll give a fuck when you move away. you're all just talking to the wall. give it up 'cause you'll never get a real response. fake ones, sure, but sincerity is what you're looking for, right?
the black and white of the world got to me. that's all I can say. the thoughts of this and that infected me. that's as far as I'll go.
I've found the attraction in being social again. don't blame me. it's only as surprising as it'll ever be.
"the girls in the stalls, they laugh and they laugh, but they do not know, they're stuck in a trap."
I don't like music for the moment.