Rehab for pansies.

I tend to think of myself as an impractical realist. My ambitions are never lofty, yet they seem to be incredibly hard to achieve. It gets even worse when someone gets dragged along for the ride; a journey with me seems like a meandering road of pointlessness.

Or at least that's what they'd like me to think.

It's been a while.

I've somehow avoided the need to partake in self-destructive behaviour. Since I've been (somewhat) well-behaved these last few weeks, I can say that there's a light at the end of the tunnel, although it's awfully dim.

Things can't get any worse. Things can't get any better.

There's not much of a life to live when you're walking around in a perpetual sea of limbo everyday.