Heh. I'm back on SF, and ranting and rambling as usual... Anyways. I seem to carry around some curse with me. Everybody who means something to me simply vanishes. They die, they just stop talking, or they stab me in the back. It's almost as if I'm wearing a huge sign that says "hey, I'm me. I tend to attract trouble and lose everybody who I care about. Talk to me at your own risk." Who then can I rely on? Friends who are never there? Family that's all but disowned me? No one, it seems. Now, that would be fine. However, the loneliness that results from it is unbearable. Times like these I have no idea why I bother going on. I'm nought but chasing fragments of shattered dreams, anyways. I'm nothing but a resource to anybody. Nobody seems to realize that I am, in fact, a person. I should just let it all go to hell. I have no real reason to go on anymore. I spend most of my time working, the rest intoxicated...trying to numb the pain of reality. But, I can't hide from it any more. There's only so long I can go on fooling myself that I have a concrete reason to continue living. Bleh. I know I'm probably not making any sense. I'm sorry if you've come across this and chosen to read it...it's nothing but a trainwreck of stupid, depressive thoughts that I'm trying to make sense of at the moment. I'd best stop typing here and leave y'all alone. Perhaps I'll follow the lead of those that have 'vanished.' Ciao.