Damn I feel alone. I've been packing and cleaning. The house feels so dead and I feel like a trespasser in a grave. I no longer belong here at all. And I feel so lost... I don't belong here or at my mothers or my fathers or anywhere else I'm supposedly welcome to stay. Only to stay, not to live. I don't fit. This is when the saddness starts and the memories begin to play like old movies. This is when I cry. I've always been just a silly stupid girl. "Don't cry. Crying doesn't help anything." The Devil himself told me that, as he was tearing my soul apart. So did an angel as he held the pieces of my broken heart. I wish I could stop. I feel ugly and disgusting when I cry. Sometimes I wish I could throw myself in the washer and come out all clean and soft and smelling fresh. But if I tried that I'd suffocate or explode or something. :) I think like such a child sometimes. *sigh* My thoughts tonight are too slow and not in words. It's like drifting through a sea of grey clouds... back to packing.