Do I want too much? Or am I just bad at baiting? I give up. Maybe I should just be content with my old life. The one before June 2004. Alone. It's boring, but it's safe. I shall seek refuge in my stuffed animals. They never tell me I'm ugly or stupid or boring. They just smile at me...like I'm the only one in the world they're thinking off. Deluded? Maybe. Disillusioned? Definitely. Maybe I'm just a cynic. Maybe I've been burnt. What the f**k.