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2003-06-09 - 3:11 p.m.
I feel misunderstood.
How original.
And the more I try to explain where I'm coming from, the less intelligible I become.
So I stopped talking.
But where's the point in that?
Silence is a self-fulfilling prophecy, not to mention the harbinger of a lot of bad poetry which, luckily, I haven't written. Yet.
I've decided to stop being in touch with my feelings.
My feelings are tiresome and I am the only person they are truly relevant to anyway.
Plus it makes my diary boring as shit.
Really we all think the same things over and over again and there's no point in beating a dead horse.
Is there?