Why is it so easy to see the beauty in others, when I can't even see the beauty in me. I never give myself too much credit. I'm paranoid at the world. I keep myself busy so my mind doesn't have time to ramble on about my insecurities and flaws. But it always seems to make time; what a reliable mind I've come to acquire. Why is it that I can make others so happy, but I can't cut myself a break. I work but never play. Why the fuck can't I play? I want to play. I don't want to walk around with a stick up my ass for my entire adolescence. Why the fuck am I punishing myself? I can't just let go and be free. I beat myself up every which way. But thats what I'm good at. Maybe I rely on the negatives to seek the positives. Although I do find positives, yet again my paranoia to the world lurks my brain. I want a friend, a great friend. One that I can call anytime of the day/night. One that wants to know about me. One that won't dip on me. One that cares as much as I would. I guess thats why I pity myself so much. I don't have someone to just slap some happiness on to me. I'm a lonely soul. Don't get me wrong, I love being alone. But not all the time. It gets depressing. Damn, I pulled the depression card. Sorry y'all. I just want someone real in my life, love/friendship. I'm tired of raping myself out of happiness. Taking what sunshine I come across as a hidden cloud.
I got more designing to do.
I got more designing to do.
signing out.
