i don't know much about anything anymore. my feelings, my mind, my friends or the lack there of. i think i like being alone rather than lonely. but harsh feelings bring about tough writing, true words. my heart stings and twists and boils in my chest making it hard to breathe at times.. but i hold myself because nobody else will. i dig my nails deep into my arms without breaking the skin as i hug myself to sleep. i dont know much about anything anymore, but it doesn't matter quite as much as i thought it did. i tried to hard to be loved by the object of my affection, but it was so difficult. i want to set myself free. i'm hungry for life.