There are so many words to write, but my mind feels blocked. Almost broken. I know my heart is. AS I look over some of these old entries, I realize how upset I was...how upset I am. I want to give up. Go home. Go to bed and cry myself to sleep like always.

But crying doesn't do it anymore. There's one thing that I'm absolutely yerning for, and it's a razor.

I can't of course. Being in Argentina and being summer. If I had the audacity, which I do, and it were winter, I doubt I'd hesitate.

Jealousy is a nasty, evil thing that I’d die to ride the world of, yet it consumes my soul. You're right, don't try to make me happy. I need to create my own happiness, but truthfully, my happiness is so incredibly hard to explain to the outsider.

For me to be happy, others around me need to be happy. If everyone around me is happy, as am I. There's always something missing though. I've never been able to put my finger on it, and I still can't. It was something that I had in the 7th grade, that slipped the summer before 8th. Whatever it was, I had completely lost it by the time I turned 15. Is it good grades? I doubt it.