Thoughtz.

If I melodramatically burst into tears when I am alone, what does it achieve?

When does life get good again, sans complications? When do things get easy? They don't. When do I stop thinking about every fucking thought over and over until I feel the pressure in my head begin to take over. I don't. When is it time to quit being so idiotic? When is it time to quit? When is the time to stop asking questions? Remove question mark.

I don't want to hear the words of my mistakes, but it cannot be healthy to keep them in. I want to know that I am doing things for a good reason, but no one ever knows that. Where's the magic answer, where where where.

There are epic days ahead.