on the bathroom floor

I am 16 today, closer to twenty than I am to ten. But still a kid. With certain privileges. (Insert smile).

I won't write about yesterday because it was beyond anything I've ever felt, beyond anything I've written about here and beyond anything I am now.

Today I finally got to have my Rosti and mushroom soup in Marche. The mushroom soup there is really ace. Of course not as ace as campbell's.

I read the book I was given. And after I turned the last page I realised the reason as to why I was/am so cynical to love. I'm not talking about a t-shirt saying 'I love my boyfriend'. I'm talking about the kind of love I can't even describe, the kind that I don't think anyone can. Love between friends, family, neighbours, strangers, people you read about in the news, I don't know.

Maybe my heart is just hardened, or maybe I'm too afraid to be vulnerable. I have to be honest because there's nothing worth faking. But I think that I have never loved anyone more than myself.

No matter how much self-loathing you feel sometimes, I feel like you will always love yourself enough to defend yourself from hurt. Man I feel cheesier than the pizza now, think I'm even cheesier than the moon.

Sometimes I stare really long at a post before hitting the publish button. Staring...