i'm not sure what's inspired this sudden bout of honesty. but it will be public, and i'll still feel it, and it'll have been recorded, given permanence.
i remember thinking that years ago: there was a necessity, an urgency in setting thoughts and feelings down because i knew i'd need the references later. it failed, of course. now, i've no idea what i was trying to tell my future self back then. too bad i didn't realize i'd be this degraded. but i couldn't have provided for that case anyway.
the melancholy of the early morning is sharpened with music. it is a form of self-therapy. it makes me feel better because it makes me feel worse.
it is all incredibly selfish. i spoil myself. and i love (and loathe) every second.