I don't know what to say. Everything is as it has been for years and therefore does not bear explanation. I need to get caught up in my paper journal, but I'm stuck on one entry that's a month and a half old. I need to finish it but I just don't have the heart to go back and relive certain things that nevertheless need to be recorded in some kind of coherent form.
At any rate, this journal entry of mystery won't make an appearance on any of my blogs, as it is actually rather private and to post it would also infringe on the privacy of another. Therefore.... I just have to deal with it. I'll probably wait until I'm already depressed, and therefore in the mood for a spot of masochism.
My parents are... my parents. It's really just my IRL friends who have any clue. My parents (my mother, really) are the kind of people you have to know to dislike.

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