We are all failed experiments, but in our failures, we have our triumphs. We find ourselves through our misery. Pain, hate and misery are required. Without hate, you wouldn't know what it is like to love. Without misery, I wouldn't know what it is like to be happy. Happiness and misery need each other to exist. They are codependant, and one is just as good as the other.

Being alone is a gift. I cherish it. Without being alone, I wouldn't appreciate being in a loving relationship. Cherish this. I should cherish every moment, as it is soon to pass. I think I spend too much time thinking about life...too much time thinking about the troubles, and the misery, to enjoy life. Every moment, every second, every thought, every whisper, every drop of rain, every blink of your eyes, every heart beat, every suicidal thought, every time I think about cutting my wrists, everybody who has ever touched your life briefly with their presance, is a gift. It could be over at any second. This could be my last moment on earth. "Do not take this for granted."

Misery should be cherished, for it, like every other emotion, will shape who you are. It will shape who you will become. It has shaped me greatly, but it brings up the topic of "how do you know you were shaped? How do you know this wasn't there?" and the answer? I don't. I think if my suicidal tendancies are brought out, it is because they are there naturally. It is instilled in me. It is a flaw. A big flaw, and I have to work on changing it.

I have spent way too long, way too long, thinking about myself, as opposed to the world around me. I know this, and you know this. I can't focus on who I never will be. I have to focus on who I am now. I have to remember to focus on the beauty surrounding me in every moment. It is good to aspire for understanding of events past, presant, and soon to come, but I can't dwell. It is killing me, and making me want to killl me. I am breaking down. I am cracking from the inside out, and I can't take it anymore.

I get these damn headaches, and it's terrible. I start to feel so very ill, and my head hurts, and it hurts to breathe, and I can't see. They come at random. Nobody understands what it is like for me when my heart throbs and it is pounding harder, and harder, as though it will leap straight out of my chest. My head starts to swim, and everything just fades away into utter darkness...

On a lighter note, my iTunes put "Northstart" by Cujo, from his "Adventures in Foam" album under the genre "Porn Groove."