so many things i want to write down. so many things day in day out that bring tears to my eyes. i went over to a freinds house the other day, he has his own little apartment he shares with his girlfriend. we try to talk about our lives, what we've been up to, this and that. but when its my turn, all i can do is shake my head and try not to break down. i want to be who i am, but no one loves me that way. i dont know how they really feel, but the people that i love and care about, have past judgment on me. with no room for an appeal. when do we stop wondering if the grass is greeneron the other side, and make it as beautiful as u want it on your own side. commitment i feel like i have so much love in my heart but no canvass to paint a masterpiece. there's plenty great paper, filled with others' drawings, but none of my own. sketchbook after sketchbook, notebook paper; trivial. though i suppose good things come to those who are patient. looking back at all the entries i have on this thing really makes me laugh. how confused, troubled i was. i let my environment get the best of me. I really feel as though i am a different person now, for the better. i dont know if i have ever done anyone any good at all. i want to know that i have.