SHE CRIES.

There are moments when I despise life for appearing in such black and white terms: stark observations of exactly what, where, how, and why things are happening. Perhaps it isn't life's fault for these conditional settings. Maybe my own mind has deemed them necessary, and treats them as definitive requirements for happy and successful life.
I wish I could abolish those terms more than anything else I've ever wished before. They have set the conventional standard for my livelihood, and now, without them, I am forced to set a halt to all progression, expression, and vivacious living.
Of these parameters sits one of great paramount, of ever-desirable consequence: love. I have finally reached the point of love in my life where these guidelines abolish any prosperity without said object of adoration. In that sense, every moment I face without that emotional-keystone is one in which my conscience deems lacking, or, along that same line of thought, incomplete. I am, so to speak, invalidly functioning without this new, learned composition of my personality.
Effing tears.

[Editor's Note: Where would I be without A Mighty Wind? This movie is the only thing that's gotten me through the last few days. Christopher Guest is my homeboy.]