I little bit of me dies everytime. I just can't seem to be able stop myself from taking things like this so incredibly hard, personal and deep. I loose myself, I loose all that's around me, inspite of the the fact that I know that the world will, as it has hitherto, keep on moving. It's not all about me. I know that. Guess there's two kind of people...at the very least, the ones who does'nt blame themselves, who gets sad, talk about it and then are done with and moves on. The other kind blames themselves, direct the sadness, the anger, the guilt..everything inwards, against themselves, they are there own worst enemy. We are the kind of people who gets depressed. We are the ones always trying to be there for the ones we love and we love them against better knowledge because we can't help ourselves. The love we carry is great, just as great as our sadness. Mybe that is what's necessary to be able to love? To really love? That you have both sides? My feelings are intense, severe, deep, mindblowing and breathtaking. I can cry from happiness and from grief. Mybe what I am describing is just what everyone else feels too.

Vad gör man när man inser att mammas gata inte var så trygg? Allting var inte enklare då och vill jag verkligen ha det som det en gång var? Såren är inte öppna längre, inte helt...men fullt läkta kommer de kanske aldrig bli. Blåögd och naiv var det längesedan jag var. Ibland känns ensamheten överväldigande, ibland känns den som en välsignelse. Sometimes I think I know the truth about life, She's a bitch and then you die. Love someone and they will still turn on you without warning, they will stab you in the back, they will kill the last trace of humanity that you might still have intact, the last will to live, the gift it is to be able to trust anyone. Alone - lonley, one of them is by choise, the other is not.