Finding out that someone loves and cares for you more than you ever will for them seems to only result in terrible heartbreak.

I'm aware that I speak incessantly on the topics I hate... so here's another one.

I despise reading back on certain entries that confirm how silly I really am.

I find it hilarious that what I fear the most about going home is running into some not-so-much-my-acquaintances sort of girls from high school. After eavesdropping--I had no choice on that matter--for 5 minutes, I learned the following:

Their goals seem to be to talk about their embarrassingly inebriated moments at last night's party and to point out other girls' imperfections.

Apparently, *Cheryl's boots were "like totally cute" almost to the point where *Britney "sorta wants to, like, kill [her] for them."

Fortunately enough, I find my headphones right after that, and drown out their nasal squawking with some Ella Fitzgerald.

Cheers to the Granada Hills Charter High School Class of '07.

*Names have been changed not for the other parties' privacy, but for my own peace of mind.

Is it okay to be just a little jealous of the people who had an amazing 2008? I can surely say that it was not all that bad, of course... but what to do when I cannot remember the good times?

Oh, what to do?

It baffles me how oddly my mind works. There are days, months ago, when I could not go an hour without rambling about everything and nothing. Here I am, months later, with almost nothing to say. How can I possibly go from overwhelmingly large amounts of inner dialogue to absolutely nothing at all?

I'm able to find minimal solace in my current state. Although it's a tad refreshing to not feel, think, ponder anything for hours on end after spending eleven months questioning everyone and everything, I worry that perhaps my heart's just a shriveled, dried-up mess. My care and passion for that and those in my life extinguished. Terrifying to believe that I've fallen into complete and utter apathy.

So now I ask you this, oh great world. If you believe yourself to be as great for holding the pleasures of the human race so simply in the palm of your hand, why can I not find the peace that I so pondered on and hoped for those eleven months when I had a heart? Don't give me your narcotics. Don't give me your liquor. Give me my peace.

... And maybe a martini.