1 John 4:19

This is not a teenager's rant.

I'm unhappy and I'm starting to dislike myself.

It's not necessary to remember events that happened in the desired manner. Not in their originally experienced form. All that's required is a series of victories over your own memory.

Today my friend was walking with me. He told me,

"You know you got this genna lan face."

"What do you mean," I asked.

"You look like you're in pain. Like pain mentally pain physical. Like fucked up like that."

To which I replied, "You're probably right."

Dear diary. I tried to read on the train today. Words came rushing in and rushing past, like the trees, the flats outside the train, like the strangers brushing you, touching you.

Eisb dogies. Ddldpw GUY WITH BAD BREATH OMG slpdck skew g h g. Sw  old eg h. Hunu w. A   S f.  Gododldk q. Wijfpdpen fksn.

Its not that bad today, though, the pain, is growing in the chest and legs.

Kcksndpfo. F dislodged enduring I GUESS I WILL BURN
THE TICKETS didjjjssofn gkroejvkfpwfjfn doejdj mfken. Gkfl dkldpowjdnfofjjsnnxnon. 

The problem is that the pain does not kill. 

It is a strange fight that is lost when won and won when lost.

"He always sits here," she said, pointing to a dusty seat beside her.

"He has always been in pain. It's ok - that's what he used to say, but now he's gone."

She continued, "My husband passed away twenty four years ago. My daughter is now married. And I thought my eldest son would be staying here with me.

Things just don't turn out the way you think they would.

Do you call that happiness? "

I wanna run
I wanna hide
What I've become

Who am I, love?
What am I supposed to be?

But what if I lose my way
and run right into you?