If you say I hide things because I'm shy, that can't be right. I've finally realized it's for a different reason-- that I don't want to see the darkness that lies in my heart
Friends are a weird thing. It seems like they know all about you, but then they don’t understand you at all.
Bye-bye. I'm off on a journey to the real world. 'Cause within this meta-reality what's is this - my death.
In reality of everyday occurrences I've had to submit to people in order not to lose them. It's less the submission that bothers me, I guess, than how it makes my life miserable. And what happens if I can't forgive myself for making that choice? And ...
