"Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer"

I suppose, the test of time really makes clear, friendships, and how much they're worth.

Some random thoughts plaguing me now. I think people're real complicated. Some, at least. Why thrive so hard for something. You want to reach the top so bad? I didn't think you'd backstab and step on other people just to achieve that. I wonder if you ever cogitate, it does get lonely on the top. And with everyone you've hurt to reach all those altitudious heights. You'll eventually fall. On another note, maybe you'll really enjoy the success of your, envious endeavours. It'd probably be real fantastic, basking it all that. Whatever it is, I think all this makes clear;Makes clear, everything.

Today really was weird and awfully screwed up. I felt out of sorts and detached. It's hard, everything. Tossed up, thrown about.Risen up, crashed down. Pulled along, Falling behind. Bashed up, battered around. Sometimes, I wish everything could just go surreal. And perhaps, I could slowly dissolve,to somewhere where there's nothing.Still, I need to go on. Press on, continue, not stop. Yes, melancholy never got anyone anywhere. They say happiness is a choice.

But somehow, I'm starting to develop a deep dislike for myself. In life, turgid, pompous as it is, I'm losing myself. Losing myself to society's ideals; And I become so darned busy sponging up such idiocy that now i'm left with the task of attempting in vain. To rediscover me, me with all I used to be. Now what I see's a mere corpse, a shell; Disgusting, exsanguious, decadent, empty. What's become of me, what's become of everyone? Slander, backstabbing, gossping, lying. It's overwhelming. My life's becoming something fake, something non-existant.

Sometimes I think, why do things go wrong. Why do they have to. Sure, it teaches us lessons; Trials, temptations, failure, whatever. But it really sucks. It even hurts sometimes. Where's the deal in that. I make an awful lot of mistakes. It's pretty daunting. I was thinking today, I think my life's awfully upside-down. Intangible seems ever so unreachable. I read something today, pertaining to flattery. I suppose it's pretty true.

We sometimes think that we hate flattery, but we only hate the manner in which it is done.-Francois de la Rochefoucauld.