I found a new favorite place in the world. Sitting on my windowsill, lights off, music on, the night crawling in on me, the cigarette in my hands and words in my eyes. I dont know what I feel most the time. It's like I'm sad over something that's not there, like if when I was little someone stole something from me, and if only I could figure out what that something is. Then I could claim it back. But I don't know, and I have to live without it. I don't mind sadness really, it's inspiring. Happiness generates nothing in me. I don't know how to define it even. Maybe this still sadness is my happiness. Maybe.

It's sad because when I was child I believed in morals and values and I was convinced, I would fight to the death, for all these concepts that seemed so real. But now morality doesn't exist, there is no such thing. There is nothing absolute. There is just doubt and human ambition, and the desire to achieve something unachievable. I wish for certainty in a world of uncertainty. I wish for impossible things.