(no subject)
i found my old journal tonight. i was almost positive i had deleted it ages ago. all reading it really did for me was establish the fact that i haven't changed a bit, and possibly never will. my life is just one continuous circle. the same problems arise constantly and i tend to handle them identically, every time. even now i'm basically stuck making the same decision i had to make after i graduated school- trust love or run as far away from it as you possibly can, hoping that something better waits for you... somewhere. kind of depressing, yet somehow typical, to realize that you haven't really grown at all as a person. as of late i've been living my life with this childish sense of carelessness. it sounds invigorating, but it's really just stupid.