I don't think I'll ever let myself be completely happy.

I don't really know why i do this, but I'm assuming it's completely unhealthy. I'll be married, of course. Maybe I'll be that wife that feels strangled and trapped and wants to die, and wants to get awakened but just can't, cuz it's not just a bad nightmare...it's life. You know the type. TV and all. Disillusioned and stuff. Books. Full of girls like that.

You know, nobody ever wants to be anything like their parents?

I guess it's kind of ironic, isn't it, reading all my life affirming crazy entries with this purple pastel wallpaper, in a diaryland online blog. It's kind of pathetic, isn't it? I kind of hope I die soon, I kind of hope I kill myself somehow, so analysts can pore through all my weblogs and wonder why, why, why I did it? On diaryland...it's a sad and funny thought, isn't it?

Why can't I just be happy? What triggered this? So I suddenly start sliding downhill for no reason at all? Is it PMS? What is happening to me?

Maybe it's from reading all the grand life-affirming literature.

Ha, ha