Here's a thing that I was writing in my "notebook of random crap" yesterday. Blah.

Thursday, November 14, 2002

I have been struck. Struck by a common and deadly disease, one of which might want to make me go on the verge of suicide. I love and I hate. Both of which I dread. Love. Why do I love so much? Do I love too much? I fall in and out of love too often and too fast, that my heart thrives to keep up. I do it more and more and faster and faster until I die of all the confusion. Why do we even try love in the first place? All relationships end. They come ... and go ... and thrive ... and die. Feelings are gained and feelings are lost. Old feelings are revived, while new feelings are forgotten. Love. What a sappy concept.

Onward to hate. Along with love, hate is such a comforting ecstacy. You get lost in your own trance of trepidation, that you forget all consciousness and eventually get hurt in the end ... if not in the process. My hatred for some people~especially certain individuals in my family is unexplainable. I hate them, yet I hate for hating them--then I hate myself.

... silence .....

Living can be such a painfull hassle.

I'll write about yesterday and today later.