sometimes i am proud of my childhood, and i am proud of being here today and not ending up doing some drugs or having sex around for money. wesley said he was surprised, that i made it this far and that i am doing good. i am surprised too. i must be one of the few exceptions... that were at least victimized the way i was.

but i don't know, perhaps if i didn't shove those memories down into the hole maybe i would not be where i am today. maybe i would of ended up into some heroin rehab..

and now that i am growing older, the more and more i am realizing that there is just something that is not quite right. there is something wrong with me, perhaps personally.. this insecurity and inadequacy that swallows me away of pain and incompetency. i want to feel happy. i want to be happy, but some days i just cannot find it.

i walk around, covered in artificial coloring smothered on my face, and i just do not feel beautiful. i do not feel loved. i do not feel wanted.. and why is it that i yearn these emotions so badly?

and then i think again. perhaps it is the fact that i never was able to acquire those feelings when i was a child. and look at me now. i am reaching the age of adult hood and i still do not have it.

maybe the scariest thought is just of me dying... lonely. dying the same way i have been living. i have been wishing for a change my whole life and it just does not seem to make any progress.