I've just stumbled on a few blogs of friends', and I'm beginning to wonder why I put so much thought into every sentence I type, whilst they're typing freely whatever they think of at that very moment. I'm wondering why every entry of mine seems to be a sort of composition or another, that everything seems only at surface, that hiding is always necessary to undercover some sort of image. At the same time, I feel like I'm the cause of so many people's troubles, if you get my drift. Perhaps I'm thinking too much. Perhaps.

He and I spent nearly the whole time today throughout together. I'm glad for the time we spent together doing simple things, and just being satisfied with each other's company, just chilling out together. That alone is of so much worth to me. I'm not going to hold back and wait till it's too late; that is why I'm letting you know how much everything we're having now means to me. Let me pick myself up, and everything will be okay, I promise.