Hmmmm.a journal, eh? What to write...or maybe even what NOT to write. I think that's more the question, don't you? How much do I reveal about myself? I guess it depends on what mood I'm in. No-one knows me anyway, no-one cares about what's really here, what's inside. To them I'm just an emo who doesn't talk to anyone, a psychotic bitch with a slightly twisted view on life...ok, maybe I was kind of responsible for that last one, but it was fun. I don't really mind what they think of me. God, some of them think I'm a lesbian. I'm not, but again, it's fun to play with them. They don't know me. But then, sometimes I'm not sure I know myself. It's a confusing life, and even then, all we get out of it is to die, and then maybe live again, completely unaware we've ever done this before. Maybe I was alive in the Stone Age. I'd have made a good hunter. Despite the fact I'm a woman. What is it with this 'women suck' thing? We're at least as good, if not better at what we do than men. I would have been a good hunter. I would. I'd have been a good person, too. Better than I am now, anyway. And that's not hard. Life wasn't so confusing back then. It is now. You have no idea what I'm on about, do you?