cellini's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- And Today The part where I'm alone all the time is the tough part. I'm listening to 'The Nights Were Made for Us' by Richard Hawley. Why does everything have to be *this* way? Why can't there be someone who wants to sit beside me and drink this bottle of wine with me? You know what: It doesn't fucking matter who I am, what I become or what I look like. This shit always fucking happened when I had my desk job and I got sent on business trips. For professional development and shit. We would break into small groups and I'd get voted the leader/speaker, and aferwards people would come up to me very timidly and thank me for whatever I'd said. And they'd stay back from me as if I was some other species. And it happens now, too. 11:47 p.m. - 2011-01-10 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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