I am moody, messy I get restless, and it's senseless.
life's such a screw up. this is childish. mindgames are. niceness only leaves you broken. that's what it's like, really. i need to regain independence, like it was before. now i'm just like the others. pathetic. helpless; like a doll. i hate it. i accept those reasons, excuses or whatever they may be, because well, what else is there to say that will not make me look more stupid. i nod in agreement, and smile graciously because i'm supposed to play it cool, remember? i need ... i don't even know what i need anymore. my mind's in fragments.
most of all, i'm afraid of returning to that horrible, haunting past. the past that gives the illusion of comfort.
