jaganshi
|
::
2005 16 May :: 6.26pm
Sitting here listening to music. What right to I have to be so profoundly unhappy?
There's nothing wrong with me. Nothing is being done to me. Just the same thousand petty torments that fly below my radar.
Even my repression isn't perfect.
I should not even be writing this. But then, why do I continue? Ah, the questions. *muses* I'd say that I'm probably writing because I'm doing the elevator-button thing. If I keep pressing the button, the elevator will go faster. If I keep writing, someone will log on and respond. The logic is roughly as sound.
Meh. Resume stoicism.
3 PWNED |
In The Face.
|