I fall in love about seven times a day on average.

That half-smile given to me by someone at a CD shop as she sees me browse through something she obviously agrees with.

The girl at the train station who looks as if she's pretty in a way that would never make her famous, but the way someone could easily fall in love with. Everyday sweet.

An old memory.

A new memory.

A new friend.

A smell, hair, eyes, an article of clothing that is simple and beautiful, you in a bad moment.

That sad girl on the bus who looks gloomy, about whom I think, I could make you happy if you would let me.

I live in an unit now. An apartment, I guess. There's a very loud couple in the building next door whose window happens to be opposite mine, and there's no way I'm going to be able to get to sleep here.

It's a strange thing to be frustrated, but it's just a natural reaction, I guess. To despise other people's happiness and contentment when you seem to have none. I guess that's why I seem to hate couples, too.

I woke up not long ago with a scar on my arm about twenty centimetres long, and I can't remember getting it. It's not deep or anything, and it doesn't hurt, but still, shouldn't I remember it?

Ilook back on where I've come from in my life to where I am now, and I can't imagine how I got here. The decisions I made all seem to be based on whims. Is there something more that I can become, or am I just going to flounder along again and again, living as I have in the hope that I'll become something more than what I am now?

Self-improvement... I have been trying to fulfil this image of me and I think in doing that I've forgotten what that is exactly.

Trying to reach this state of Zen where I need nothing, not people, not food or water or items or possessions. Not happiness or love or you or anything. I don't think it exists, but now I'm in a city where I know next to no one and I'm hoping to grow.

There's an assumption many people have: in order to create something new, you have to tear down what was there before. A blank canvas

This is true for all things. Buildings. Personalities. People. Tastes.

I think I've done a lot of tearing down in the last few weeks, and I'm feeling a lot like a forest that has been bull-dozed. A lot of stumps. Nothing of substance.

I am waiting.