This LJ has lost its direction.
I lost the battles.
And I don't know what to do other than running away.
But I'll always be trapped in it - the battlefield is my life.
Sometimes I look at Viggo and I love him so much for being him.
I cannot love myself like that, and it is so, so sad.
I wonder what he sees when he looks into the mirror.
But then I don't think he is the type who look into mirrors.
I wonder about his self-portraits, I destroyed half of mine.
And I don't know what to do other than running away.
But I'll always be trapped in it - the battlefield is my life.
Sometimes I look at Viggo and I love him so much for being him.
I cannot love myself like that, and it is so, so sad.
I wonder what he sees when he looks into the mirror.
But then I don't think he is the type who look into mirrors.
I wonder about his self-portraits, I destroyed half of mine.