Am I mad? Well, yeah in a way I suppose I am. I'm not too thrilled to think someone would corrolate "I will survive" to be my song. Especially someone who knows nothing about me, but I guess that's by design. I'm not surviving, at least it doesn't feel like it. I guess languishing on is surviving in some way.

I'm mad that I have some desire to speak to someone that I know it's best to just stay clear of. I'm mad that there is a reason some people don't want me near other people, as though I'm a threat, but yet I know I'm not. I'm mad that I wait to get a goodbye before I get a hello. I'm mad that I get an attempted goodbye and I can't even look in your eye. I'm mad that I'm socially inept more often than not. I'm mad that while I may be preferred over other tablemates I'm still not good enough to be more than a shadow in other people's worlds. I'm mad that the little things are easily forgotten, it's a small request really, and I'm sure it's gone from the mind. I'm mad that I cry so much. I'm mad that I never seem to be able to sleep. I'm mad that I can't relive the things and times I'd like another shot at. I'm mad that I can't learn from my past regrets and try to change my present. I'm mad that it's been two years since I've had someone in my life - I'm really mad that it's been three years since I had someone in my life that I thought love went both ways with - I'm insanely mad that I was wrong on that last one and I still don't see what I missed all that time. I'm mad (read crazy, not angry) about the one I can't have.

"So I turn, to run. The thought of all the stupid things I've done. -Coldplay"