Don't you know it's easy to see where you went wrong.

I've been fighting a dull, relentless melancholy for about three weeks now. How gay is that?

I'd like some happiness please. Now. And a companion. If you don't mind. Goddamit.

I've been a cigarette smoker for about five years now. Today, for the first time in those five years, my mom saw me smoking. She's known for a while that I smoke cigarettes, but only through finding lighters and matchbooks here and there, respectively. So she saw me today, in front of Haagen Dazs, smoking a cigarette, and I can't help but feel guilty and ashamed.

I'm also sick to my stomach and in my head. With malaise and frustration and loneliness too. I'm

not going to finish that sentence. In fact, I'm just going to stop altogether.