Monday, October 6, 2008

. .

I want to be in love. I want to feel what it is like.
I'm happy, and I want you to know that I am.
I'm alone, and I want someone to know that. I am. I exist. 
I'm sad, and I want to hide it from the rest of the world. But be there just one someone whom I could talk to, about it, whom I could be with. With whom I could live this life and not just exist. 
Done. 

I won't write anymore, now. It's depressing. I was happy, and now I'm not. 


Later.

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