As I sit in wonder at the crazy things that have happened recently I am reminded that my mind is not a relaxing place to be. Everything about me is intense and complex and complicated – the complete antithesis of whom I wish to be. To think that I am here on my own when all that I really am is a scared little girl who doesn’t know right from wrong and who has created a reality that doesn’t really exist in order to make a peace with myself that in and of itself is an illusion. The fact of the matter is that I am alone. I am of myself. I am for myself. There is no one else. I think I should be more disturbed by that than I am but I do not know how to make myself feel something that does not naturally occur in me to feel. I wonder if these things that I am taking part in are hurting people. I do not know if I should lose sleep over it or only focus on what I need out of this life in order to feel good. Deep down inside of me I know exactly what it is out of this life that I need in order to be fulfilled. But I cannot admit, aloud or otherwise, that what I need cannot be found in myself alone. In a perfect world one should be able to be complete all alone. But, remember, this is not the real world. This is my world. The one that I have created in order for me to be able to survive while maintaining my thin grasp upon the way that other people live.