I wrote this blog in my phone last night & debated on posting it. I only think of my blogs as personal notes to myself. It's upon you if you read them

The thing about love is it always ends.. It's like a movie that needs a sequel to be more understood. Or in a sense, a season.. It needs continuation. I've been alone in a manic state for my 20th year now and I've experienced true love once, puppy love, infatuation, and lusting. Thoughts hurt, and reality's touched. Once having a reason to live goes beyond anything a paycheck could ever do for me. I can't seem to care about anything in life except the things I love. The people my age are more into clubbing, lieng & obsessing over social networks, and being their favorite entertainers. I haven't been this suicidal in a while. Tho I won't take my life, the thought comforts me. The things I want to do with my life doesn't reach anybody around me. Everythings so unbelievable to people. Me being a music artist, unbelievable. Me wanting to act, unbelievable. Me wanting to write & direct my own movies, unbelievable. Everybodies so scared to simply do something in public, but what the fuck for. Becuase of being made fun of? What are we 5? This is crazy. I told myself I would stop writing in my blog, but this is my blog for a reason. I don't care what I look like to people. Half the time I don't even like people, well.. Maybe it's not that. Maybe it's that I've been around the wrong people everyday of my life. So when I seperate myself, I feel whole again. Until, I feel alone. God doesn't oppose life. Only evil does. The little mistakes I've made turned into the ultimate collapse of the rest of my life. And all this pain for what, to be great. To be famous? I don't care for fame, I just want my music heard. I don't "stunt". I just love. But like everything else in my life, it's been denied.