2013. január 29., kedd

I know that love is mean and love hurts.

I decided to write in English. for the case of not being understandable to the undesired people.
I feel completely sick and lost. like a zombie, a person who is misguided and left alone. i constantly ask: why. this is the third time I have been told not to be loved. my struggle is all unimportant.
but the question is: why. why is that so? why I am so average, but told not to be that. what is the problem with me?
I smoked a cigarette. after a long year without that, having this was awful. but it calmed me down.
I don't want to be without him.
everything would be so meaningless, so lifeless.

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