depression really is anger without enthusiasm. this one bloke i really was in love with, who of course didnt like me at all, ran away a bloody few hundred kilometres to a cultural abyss for uni. should i be upset, i dont know anymore. but today, maybe not long ago, he got in the car on the way to glorious where-i'm-not town. its like high-school love of my life, gone running away, probably oblivious completely. i wonder what to do. cry? too late for that. now im just looking at a pile of safety pins, the last thing he gave me.