The woman is almost identical to Donnie Darko's. This makes me happy, but then I forgot what mine looked like. I'm glad I wasn't alive in the 80s. Apart from the fact that I actually was, and I kept thinking that maybe some sort of warped time paradox would open up and I'd disappear. But I didn't because I have since done lots of washing up, and still exist.

I hate you I hate you I hate you
because you shouldn't have lied to me
I hate you because I love you too much and it doesn't mean anything, not to anyone. I hate you because I hate myself, and it's the same thing really, or at least I thought it was, and I'm confused now. Everything that always mattered, doesn't matter.

And if the rest of the world stopped believing in physics it'd be okay, because then we could pretend that nighttime is daytime and that gravity doesn't really exist, that cars can split themselves in two and that two people can be the same person, like I always thought. I want to burn radiator ridges into my back again, and hide your voice under the blankets. I hate this, I hate people, just because everything's too beautiful and it doesn't make sense and I can't ever take part in it. In that, I'd despise me too. It isn't right, hating this much. Stupid things, it only matters to me.

Feeling:
Listening to:
Pretending:

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