"Better to write for self and no audience, than to write for an audience and have no self"...or something like that.

It is pathetic. But all I have ever dreamt of is to find real love. I am ashamed to even admit it. That's not something you do, especially not I. But after so many years of being forced to stay alone, that's all you can wish for.

Perhaps that's why they disgust me so much. Maybe "disgust" is not the best word to describe what I feel, cause I do want what's best for her. And if this makes her happy then I am, or atleast should be, happy as well. But I can't seem to get over the fact that love is not simple. It's not supposed to be. But that's exactly what their love is and that's not fair.

Loose.

It's not like I leave his place without my panties on.

Left behind

As long as she was alone I could pretend I was normal. Cause I was like her. But now it is over. The last chapter has been written leaving me locked in a story, whilst she has been set free.

Unmendable

I am broken and you can’t fix me. But that’s all right. I like being broken. I live for the pain.

190109

One day I will honour him, and when that day comes I'll be proud to be his granddaughter.

...

Finally (or should I say sadly), I am growing up. And for the first time I like the thought of being, or at least starting to be, my own person even though I am far away from being independent, without the need of anyone. I will miss the chained and restrained freedom which I trade for a more uncertain one. But nevertheless, i will be free.

Who am I according to you?

She stood in the crowd like a statue of wax. For seconds she didn't breathe, as if she wanted to distinguish life from death. To end her breathing in a world of vivid, vibrant and yet so empty shells. The deadly and flirtatious thought enticed her in a way she hadn't expected. Normally she is the one to observe the emptiness of the hollow creatures surrounding her, but for once, would they notice her if she, for their sake, put the alluring thought into effect? If she went from being warm to cold, from alive to dead? She thought about it for no more than a flashing moment before realizing it isn't worth it. Not even for the excitement that follows.