I found out today that no one loves me. And then I wrote about it my book.
The book, at this point, seems juvenile. I look back on words that I just typed in, and they seem so meaningless. The seem like they don't make any sense, and they never even have semblence to what I was trying to get out. I wonder if I should even bother with it anymore, but something inside me tells me that I should.
Other than that, i've been trying to transfer all my stuff onto my new laptop, which is a slowgoing process. I plan on taking a bath soon and then going to bed. I just want today to be over.
Oh, and my words of wisdom today are:
Never talk about something that is important to you involving someone else's feelings. It is inevitable that yours will get crushed.