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I just have to write. I feel like talking to someone. I don't really feel like hearing anyone though, just talking. Pretty selfish, huh.

I'm probably going to kill myself. I'm being honest here. I know... I finally got out of there... everything is supposed to be just wonderful now, right? Sometimes I wonder if anyone really understands that my head is fucked up. They expect trivial shit to all of a sudden make life perfect. No one really gets it. It's my head that's fucked up. My brain. It doesn't matter what happens in life. Nothing changes my head. The brain is an organ. I have a sickness that affects one of my vital organs. No one gets that.

People love the puppet. They love what I create to entertain them. They don't know anything about me. It's not because I don't try to explain myself. I often do. No one really wants to listen. I can't blame them. I don't like listening to other people's bullshit either.

One day... when I can get over the last bit of fear,

I'm out of here.