It seems so weird that I can pick up friends so well, and the ones I want to keep are always too busy for me, but the ones I can’t stand, are the ones whom I can’t get rid of. It seems like such a theme in my life, even in my relationships. I suppose that I can’t pick my friends, which means that I’m doomed to a life of loneliness (something that I believe I’ve already come to terms with), except for John, whom I can have a great time with. I mean, I have some of the most fucked up relationships ever.

There may be one explanation, which I hope is not true. It’s very subconscious, and very hard to explain. But I hope it’s not true. I would be an asshole if it was true, and I would deserve to be alone.

Being alone makes things so much simpler. I mean, my life is much less complex when I think about it. It’s quite a good feeling to not be dependent on anything. One would have the freedom to commit suicide without worrying about anyone caring. One has no responsibilities to anyone.

Will you be my friend? No, of course not.

What a fucking bad day.