I want a good girl. I want a girl that doesn't live to party. I can handle some drinking but why must every girl I meet have a love for weed and pills and shrooms and going crazy. I became accustom to you. I still haven't fully adjusted since the fall. I'm giving up for a while. Retreating into my own mind and my own soul and my own bed. I need to sleep. I need to feel rested. I'm so fucking restless.

I could have fucked her. She was in my bed trying her damnedest to get me to but I didn't. I long for compassion. I long for intimacy. I long for a connection. I long for comfort. I long for understanding. I long for love. And for that, I sleep alone.

You smell different. You taste different. You talk different. You walk different. You smile different. You think different. You feel different. I feel nothing. You are not her and I am still in love with her ghost.

And would you look at that? The man who boasts of being immune to feelings seems hurt by the fact that I ignore him. I wonder how he feels to be on the receiving end for once. Don't seem so surprised to see me. My ambition has been haunting you for years.

I'm really getting sick and goddamn tired of my roommates being high all the time. Seriously? It's 4:30 in the afternoon and I'm welcomed back with you packing a bowl. I'm not the cool one though. I don't smoke. I'm the weak one. Fuck you. Fuck all of you. I'm sorry I'm not 14 and don't think it's cool to be high whenever possible. I have no self control because I smoke cigarettes? Fuck you. It's black and white, really. Fuck you.

If you keep cutting me down, what am I to do? You think you're better than me. You like your other friends more. Fuck you. I can't wait to leave here. I can't wait to see you amount to nothing. Ambition? You have none. Go smoke another bowl. At least you'll be out of the house. That's four nights in a row that you're gone in your world of smoke. I'm weak because I smoke cigarettes? Fuck you. You told me that I couldn't quit and then tell me I'm weak for not quitting. Fuck you. You're becoming less and less of a friend and more and more of an enemy. You think all my ideas are stupid? Fuck you, I didn't ask for your opinion. You think you're hot shit? Fuck you, I didn't ask for your opinion. You think I'm worthless because I don't go around fucking? Fuck you, I didn't ask for your opinion. I'll smoke my cancer while you smoke your life away. If you keep cutting me down, what am I to do? I'm to cut you out of my life.

So, what do you say when a supposed best friend thinks your worthless? Calls you weak? Pretty much says your dreams are unobtainable? What do you say? You say, "Fuck you." "What are you doing with your life?" "How are those parties treating you?" "You must feel so cool getting high every chance you get." "At least I have dreams." "At least I fucking have ambition." "Fuck you." "Even if I don't amount to shit at least I tried." "At least I enjoyed the dream." "Fuck you." "Truly and sincerely, fuck you."

Feeling rather indifferent today. It's better than what I've been feeling though. Fall is coming. Thank goodness. Of Montreal's new album is pretty damn wonderful. I'm probably going to watch my favorite movie tonight. I was going to last night but didn't. Shinfo. I've been listening to the score for it a bunch lately. I want to be a success but I'm scared I won't be. In life. In my career. In love. In friendship. In anything. Not a day goes by that you don't cross my mind. I wish you didn't but I'm happy you do at that same. Do I cross yours? Nah, man, nah. That's far too much to ask. Oh well. Tonight will just be another night full of Melatonin dreams.

It doesn't always work. He thought he was alive but he was just trying not to die. He thinks about it every night as he goes to sleep. He's planned on how it will go. He's seen it. It's set in his mind. One bottle of this. One bottle of that. That should do it. That should be plenty enough for him not to wake up. Sleep. He needs sleep.