8/28/09
I'm nineteen years young and my mind is weathered.
I'm nineteen years young and things aren't getting any clearer.
Since '88 I've felt this hate suffocated by my inability to overcome the unknown.
Only fragments of memories I can't piece together.
I can't turn inwards because I can't see because I can't fully understand who I was born to be.
(...)
I must live my life.
I'm seeing the world in black and white.
As if everyday I live is a memory of another persons life. As if everyday I live is from another's life.