there is an emptiness about the heart of life
2003-04-12 || 12:17 p.m.

I want to write something but I can't put it into words. I want to write something about how much I love history and how much I would like to do more with it in the future but how self-indulgent I think it is for a person like me to think like that. I also want to be loved more than anyone could possibly know. I hate the way my brain makes me hurt so much and fools me into thinking I matter. I wish there was someone who could understand those real bits of me, someone I could do that for too. And I don't know whether it exists or not but I think that it does.