Here I am, sitting in my best friend's apartment as she sleeps, and contemplating what a loser I am. I am utterly unreliable, a hypocrite, and a facade. I am the worm that doesn't quite make it through the cacoon for the millionth time and is beginning to tire from the failure. I know, I know, let's see how much self pity we can pour on the already suffocating fire of the heart. But I am so sick of me I would give just about anything to escape. And God? Well, mostly I never give him the chance to forgive me cuz I am way too busy punishing myself. I am the executioner that sharpens his lusty blade and the guilty victim waiting for dawn. Do you know how it feels to distrust yourself so completely, to deny yourself any lasting happiness, to expect so full a failure in every attempt at improvement? I am Misery.