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Feeling a bit better, but not by much.

I'm just a fool, a petty fool. Love is only the thin tissue paper covering pain. Its easily ripped.

*shrugs*

Now I know I can feel again, but I want it to go away. I'm at the bottom of the barrel. Its alright, I'm used to being put in dark dingy places anyway.

Screw the bright color approach. Tomorrow I'm going back to my psuedo-gothic exterior. I'd rather have people fear me than look. Because I know what people want, and its not me. I'm not zany, nor jumpy, nor interesting. Yeesh, I haven't done much with my life, because I lack the means in which to do it.

I want to speak different languages, go to interesting places, live out a facinating life.

Life hasn't even begun for me.

Thats why its my promise that on satuday night I will get toasted.

Tiffany will have to carry me home. Or Alexia. Or ALL of them if need be. Its about time to get drunk again. A false oblivion is tempting.

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