I swear in most of my favourite songs, the reason for their prominence in my life is one section. Whether this be the whole song, the chorus, or 15 seconds at the end. Little things truely are more important than we ever imagine.

I'm confused - quite often.
I find it interesting that a lot of the people i'm close to - family, friends often see me as a source of definition;
Someone who can be succint.
I think some of them are learning.
It's weird that confusion is such a definite word.
It's a word that speaks volumes that are often left unheard.
Sometimes I hate myself and
To be honest, I think that's human.
I don't think I could imagine any one person being perfect - that having been said I did once.
I try not to come across as self-loathing or attention-seeking, but
In the same respect it's weird that to acheive that sort of status takes quite an ego.
To put information about yourself out there in such a way as to grab the attention you believe you deserve - clearly you
value yourself to a certain degree?
Possibly even a higher one than you could've imagined originally?
I guess you could say art to me is a cathartic experience, but
Sometimes it's painful.
Sometimes I try to be what I am not, often what I cannot.
I get jealous very easily. And i self-indulge FAR too much in my own mind.
That can be dangerous.
Possibly.
The simplicity of the notepad is a beautiful one.
Empty space that gets filled with clear text.
Almost makes the words seems deserved. Worth something. like one day people will look at them and get a sense of
who you are.
Strange that words cannot do that.
Or can they?
Do they tell MORE of a story?
Possibly.
Type IS definitive. It is black on white. It is proof. It is there. Even as I delete mistakes, I go back over what was.
Slightly erractic topic-switching here, but i guess that's proving my original point.
Interesting that it was completely unintentional. Maybe I know myself better than I'd thought.
Interesting.

Well Done, Ant. Well Done.

I may have Tumblr, but

I hope to never neglet you, blogspot. You so beautiful. Go buy yourself somethin' nice, 'kay?

Okay :).

It's so strange that the things that make you the happiest you've ever been are the exact things that can make you more upset than you could imagine.

Somehow i don't think I'll be needing a palm-reading anytime soon.

I'll Always remember the humid September,

where inside my heart felt so cold.

Well, that's a lie. I was sure I'd find a new peace of mind, to slow down the time

but

What If i just didn't want to?

'Cause hating the change enhances the strange and surely remains to quicken the pain (in the long run)

But for the moment, the trouble's over - I feel safe.

Away from the struggle, the hurt and the strain. The Juxtaposition - the pleasure; the pain.