Misrable

I wrote this summer '09; kind of a bad time and this is basically rambling. but it is, as the book title says, an excerpt from my life.

Sometimes I wonder why everyone is too proud to show the actual emotion that consumes their body. And then I look at myself. How many times that I've done it. So again I think, whenever some one asks me if I'm okay, why can I never answer with the truth? Why do I always say that I am okay? I'm not. My life is falling apart and I just don't know what to do. I've never known what to do. And maybe that's part of the problem. I don't ever know. I just want to be able to know.