reality check...

I must hate the reality i live in a great deal to keep running back to this journal.

I have this constant need to report every thought that crosses through my mind. maybe it's the feeling of a new commitment. you buy a day runner and for the first month you write everything you need done in it; after a while you don't give a monkey's ass if your little brother throws up on it or pisses the calendar pages away.

Sometimes i wonder about hen. i just want to shake him and make him tell me what he really wants. we promised eachother to try and not play stupid mind games with eachother, to try and be as truthful as possible. it seems like it's so hard on him to tell me what he wants especially if it isn't what i want, or that it might offend my views.