Seems I ride this coaster alot, most of my entries either saying how strong I feel or how confused I've become by things. Both are certainly true of me. The only constant that I have is the cigarette dangling from my lips as I write this entry. My addiction, burning my throat with every drag.

What am I talking about? Who the fuck knows or cares. This is all shrouded in vaguness and half formed thoughts for a reason. I decided to keep things from you, dear diary. That's really what it is, isn't it?

I used to be so blatantly honest. Not caring what anyone thought, who saw it and who shook their heads at the sorry state that my life was in.

The fact is, my life isn't in a sorry state anymore and I haven't had alot of interesting things to say. There hasn't been a whole lot in the way of rants on my mind, or feelings I've felt the need to share here in this open forum. Here we are, some five hundred entries later, and I feel more closed off than I have in the two years that I've been keeping this diary.