pyrhhus

Desperation: Writing in a public journal that you know full well no one will read, but writing nonetheless in the thin hope of alleviating slightly the feelings of utter loneliness. I realize fully how pathetic I am, but continue onward as I know of nothing else to do.

Musings: (Most of these don't make much sense out of context, but I am mostly writing them so I don't forget them)

People steal to be free because they fear the weight of something beyond themselves. I do not steal because I know the real weight of being free.

I am defined by my mind, and I will not let me take that away from me.

"Everything was absolutely normal - and totally strange. I did not know how to go about finding my place in it."

"What possible bond was there between that life and this?"

"...their lives will always teeter on the abyss of pointlessness and inertia."

My ultimate concern is me. I rule. My purpose is to make my life as good for me as possible. For some reason I enjoy helping others. No me importa. (Emotionalist Distortion)

I let my anger at others go; why can't I do that for me?

I do combine eros and agape - but both in extreme forms. I would be willing to define my very existence by what another sees in me - and for that validation I am willing to give everything.

I am a fucking philosophical train; you can't stop me once I get going. Booyah.

If I ever have a daughter she will be named Moira because it is impossible to be named Moira and not be hot.

I refuse to feel good about myself. I resist it with every once of will I possess. Correlation: I am not very good at accepting compliments.