Two years on, I still find myself tearing over the same old thing.
And the realisation of this is now getting a tad too blatant for anyone's own good.
This is almost about the only thing that I'm being irrational about.
Haven't I always been this way on this matter, anyway?
I know it, and you guys know it too.
So we all know it
But still.
I guess I'm too used to being by myself
With myself
And (henceforth) hard on myself.
(Though I'd hardly admit the last part of this line)
The best thing is that yours truly is wholly aware of the motion and procedure through which she has been putting herself. It's like watching yourself cutting yourself apart.
Sounds like suicide.
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