Sometimes I sit down and stare forwards. I think about the past, and the future, and wonder if I have anything left. Even though deep inside I know I have nothing left I refuse to think about it. Thinking is all I’ve ever done, and all I’ve ever done is let myself and everybody I ever loved (whatever that means) down. If I think about it, I’ll go into self destruct mode, where I won’t be...

Blah, Blah, Blah. That's all I hear coming out of their mouths. People think you're listening. That I'M listening. I don't listen to them. They talk junk, I don't care, unless they want me to get the amount of drugs double-checked, it's fine. I do need some though, some more. Not hardcore stuff, just a little bit of sleeping pills, codeine, the usual. They don't get the hint, I dont like you, any...

Journal entry ? This stuff's a bit new to me. Diaries aren't my thing. I rhyme, I write peoms. I like writing, I'm a horrible writer, but I enjoy it. I don't enjoy right now. I dont enjoy what life means to me right now. I don't like what life has given us. It's given us temptation and drugs and things that are better left usaid. I'm not talking about sex. Sex is a personal decision that shouldn't...