hi. good morning actually. i have just noticed, after so very much desiring to indulge in the expressions of your many faces, that i cannot see them. you took your page, your words, the silly pretense of a presence away. i suppose, they are not my pictures, why should this be offending or madenning, not to say that they are either, but i feel as though, you are cutting me off from the knowledge of you. and it sickens me. it sickens me.

i know that i need to. i am going to pray Serena, for the humility that i used to have, the goodness that used to be in me. it seems so very long ago, and so unattainable, the peace that i once had. even as an adult, even in miserable circumstances, i still had that. whatever it was. my faith is gone.

dribble...
This is an altruistic rendering of the sum of life, from a purely emotional stand point, which would therefore, from any intellectual view, render it meaningless, contrite, self-absorbed, and of course, grossly negligent of all other aspects that might hold some semblance to true purpose, honesty and ... then there is no such sense of altruistic, then is there? This shall serve only as a medium in which I speak frankly to no one in particular of the actual occurrences and there effect on the soundness of character. in consideration to nothing. I have no complete thoughts to string together to create anything massive or integral. it is mere dribble of words that linger in my mind that must be released. i wish to relay something of honestly, perhaps one day when i am honest. when i know that i live my life with something that resembles the moral scruples i once had hold of. the paper. yes, my paper looks very bad indeed. and you believe that...these creatures could not have come from the same world as I. get away from me, these disgusting things have suffered me long enough. there. i am done.