I would try and lie to you and tell you that I was writing a story, but it's pretty obvious that I'm not lying at all, and that's what takes the cake, isn't it?

I want to clean my room and hug my lover but he's in San diego and I can't stop crying and I feel so fucking alone that I don't know what to do, it's stupid isn't it?

it's marked mature for language, drug mentions and general unhappiness

I feel stupid.

-Ki