i journal in writing, i journal on my computer, and now i'm doing i here. is it an addiction? do i have an 'addictive personality'? or have i just watched too much Dr. Phil? what is this need to label, to analyze? to find out why i have a liking for certain activities, or find myself wanting to help people rather than find friends who have their sh*t together??

oh, so many questions. and i can't help but analyze. it's my nature. it's what i do. to myself, to anyone...maybe it was sophmore year, living with that psych major who then turned out to be one of the most whacked out, freaky, alcoholic, lying, self destructive but 'had everything' girls i ever knew. it's too bad really. before i met her, i didn't worry about things, really. but she was a pro. oh boy.

and now? i have no clue where she is. she got evicted from her apartment and wound up in a homeless shelter. i tried to help her, only to be shit on once again. nope. i'm done. i hope she finds whatever she's looking for...i hope she realizes she has everything she needs.

perhaps thats what it takes. some catastrophic event to 'wake us up' to realize how precious a gift life and what we do have is. that's how it worked for me. but hey, i was only 10!