I'm sick of myself. Well, maybe not, but I'm just tired of the way I see myself. For some strange reason I just can't make myself happy. The moment I am truly happy, I go and fuck it up. I don't think I deserve to be happy. I don't deserve to be able to smile sincerely. I really don't. I'm one of those people...obsessed with chaos. and when things become too beautiful...too amazing for me...I have to turn it all around. It's as though I have more control over my life when it's bringing me down. That's what I'm used to, and that's what I have to throw myself into. So, here it comes again. and I just bathe myself in my upset moments and long dreams to nowhere. I'll still smile. I'll still love. I'll still be Qwyla. But, I'll just keep up the all too familiar pain of my life that I just can't seem to get enough of.