Phteven.

I've been listening to  twenty | one | pilots  a lot, and I've been in this moral questioning mode, not really knowing which way is left and who I really love anymore. My father turns out to be a fairly terrible person, which is depressing, because I thought he was getting better. I got a new MacBook Pro, which is wonderful, but it means that I have another thing that makes me want to study a little less, which is a terrible thing. I'm still in love with someone and that's a wonderful thing, but I'm not insomniac anymore, so I question the reality of that love. I think every thing seems fairly wrong to me, except I know I'm doing the right thing and the weight of moral obligation and my increasing need for being happy is making me suicidal. Liberty in death. I don't want to be dead but I want to be happy and I know that love will make me happy but I seem to be doing quite the opposite of what I should be. I know I shouldn't be writing this, but I have to because I promised someone I will. I think my brain hurts because my stomach is empty. If only I could eat butterflies.