I write in my journal all the time. it's sort of a treatment for mental people like me. it's nice but sometimes I dunno if it's enough.
I feel like threatening those paper characters inside my journal, I want to scream into their face how I feel and tell them what names I called them behind their backs. I want them to know when they think they know me, they really don't. it's a lie, all of it. they're part of my lie and I'm part of theirs and so we go on, living this life, looking for The dream to come true.