xtoolfreakx's Diaryland Diary

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whatever

Seconds slowly turn to minutes. Minutes turn to hours. Hours feel like several yesterdays. And life is elsewhere. Maybe "elsewhere" is right here. Right now. And it's not until tomorrow, that you realize that you've missed it. What happens after that? You try to see the "right now", and what you see is you. Alone. An apathetic existance. Pushing and shoving is all that's getting down. I'm sick of knowing that when I wake up, it's the same day all over again. The same people... places.... feelings.... that I secretly hate. I'm sick of knowing that the things that I want are not there when I need them. It feels like I've talked all day and never said a word.

11:07 p.m. - 2001-10-02

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