I lost it in office today. All thanks to that woman that I call my mother. She drives me nuts. The same way she has been driving me nuts since I was a small child.

I try my best. Not to drive myself nuts. Perhaps I do drive myself nuts all the time.

Jac Er says I should be more optimistic. I am a pessimistic. I feel that it is more exhausting always looking on the bright side. It is not that I do not look on the bright side. But what do you do when rain keeps on falling on your parade? Of course you keep on head up and tell yourself things will get better the next day. And the next day, the next day, the next day. You keep on lying to yourself.

The same thing that you tell yourself when you are in hall, lying on the cold floor. The same thing you tell yourself, lying in bed, in hall, at home. You have been through utter loneliness and solitude. You know how that is like. You have been lied to and cheated by.

You keep on looking forward. Life is not bad. You have things to wear, things to eat. Food is good. Especially for the soul. Especially when you have not had an appetising meal for a week. You go to sleep thinking of food.

The easiest way to get over anything is to depend on yourself and buy things. Materialism is the way out. Buy yourself things. Clothes, shoes and especially bags. Happy things and happy food. Cheese popcorn that you exhale down your throat is the best on a sad night.

When someone dies, your life does not fall apart yet because you are grown up. You never did spend much time with the dead person anyway. You have spent too much time with your father growing up. People say that that is the best gift that your father can give you. Perhaps it is. Living with people who do not know you well is the saddest thing. They do not know your second inner most thoughts and dreams. They do not know much of what you have been through. The humiliation, the tears, the anxiety. Perhaps they suspect and see just a portion of it. But they will never know you. The real you. The happiness that you never shared with them. The sadness that you never utter a word of.

She goes on and on about how important family is. I do not know where she is coming from. I know she is very important to me. And I know even if my friends are there, they will never be able to do what she can do, the most important things. But I do not rely on her for my existence, my joys, my sadness. I cannot relate to relatives. The idea of relativity.

It is raining now. I really love rainy days. Not with public transport of course. I love jackets and sweaters and not sweating. I even like that smell of the surroundings before it rains. I wish I had rainboots and big lovely umbrellas. I like carrying umbrellas. I would love a loveseat and to sit on it with a magazines and watching the rain fall down.

To write. It is such a lie. What have I written since? Only making up cover letters and e-mails.

I am okay. What else could I be? I am the same. Bitchy, mean and myself.