a short essay

it really can't be healthy for me to have all this emotion
stashed away. still, i can't help it. it's hard to be
optimistic about anything when there's so much hurt
inside. i'm paranoid that everyone is out to get me.
i can't trust anyone, because i always expect to get
stabbed in the back. of course, i have good reason
to think this way. it happens all the time to me.
i'd like to think i have friends in this selfish,
uncaring world. that's purely a lie. some people may
call me their friend, but only when it's for their benefit.

10/2/98