index | archives | notes Tuesday, Aug. 03, 2004 2:08 p.m. << [ With Us or Against Us ] >> I've realized that even writing cannot substitute for a human being. I have things to say, an infinite amount of ideas and opinions and memories, and I could spend my life writing them down here. The truth is though, my diary can't hold me and tell me it's going to be alright. My diary can't offer input and tell me that I'm loved. I want a friend, not a machine. I have also come to the realization that if I were worthy of anything other than a fucking machine, I would have it by now. But I guess one can't really complain of loneliness if one systematically removed oneself from the world, now can they? I am the source of all of my problems. << | x | >> whatiscopyright.org