Unlike my other journals, this one has a more serious tone to it.
No one, you can truly trust. All those stories and fantasies of kindred spirits, true love, blessed moments--none of them exist in our conscious worlds. These little ideas only happen when we dream about them.
No one we know are what they seem. When we are born, we are given one point of view. We don't see through the eyes of our brother; we do not live in the same body as our friend; we do not share precisely equal ideas with another. We are all different, and nothing can cause us to be the same.
You'd never know if a person will ever do anything to hurt you. No one can read minds. You never know for sure what kind of person they could be.
The only person you can trust is yourself.
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