03 June 2009, Wednesday

I've never felt so alone. I live with my parents who can't provide for me, who have no money. We will be kicked out of our apartment soon.

I need to find a job, but am so depressed, that I can't even figure out what I want to do.

I've never been so negative in my life. I literally cannot write anything on here that is positive. Every time I sit and think -- what is good in my life -- what comes out is this.

Even the good doesn't seem that great anymore.

I've always been unhappy but figured if I worked hard that someday I would be happy. Going back to London would make me happy. I would finally meet people I like. I would finally establish a fulfilling life for myself. I think this life isn't good enough for me; I think I should have never been born; I look at the people I know who I love (but who I also wish were so much better) and I hate myself for it, hate myself so greatly that I just want to run away again, somewhere where no one knows me.

I am back home. The same place I ran away from. I am working at the library again. I work at the theatre. I love my theatre. That is good. But I am reminded of the aspirations I had when I worked there, of the things I thought I would one day be doing, and the music from the orchestra, and the people dancing/singing on stage, and the beauty of the old victorian theatre somehow seems less beautiful.