Angst, it's what for dinner.

This should be a lock post, take caveat, what you see is what you get. There's nothing hiding behind the cryptic façade. I'm only pretending to be complicated.

It is rather remarkable how I bounce back and forth between here and there.

Last week, I saw the world through a rose-color glass. There was romance in the air. There was flirting. There were talks of moving out and moving in. There were dreams of happy ending and ever after.

STOP. Let's think realistically for a moment.

A wise person told me long ago, happy endings are just stories that are not yet ended.

This time around, dreams were shattered and hurtful words were exchanged.

According to our Antagonist of the Week, I am suffering from a severe Peter Pan Syndrome. I need to be watched 24/7 or else I will self-detonate.

According to him, my goal in life is to test out how much I can mindfuck people before they break and I would go at any length to achieve that. Funny thing is he's not the first person to say that. I'm beginning to wonder if I am, indeed, *that* messed up.

Well, good riddance, I say.
I AM NOT A SPOILED, FICKLE CHILD!

For what it's worth, it truly is simple. If you want me to think of you every second, every minute of each day, all you have to do is make me.

...

Happy Birthday, Mister Osbourne.