Life feels exciting and good, and that feels fucking surreal.

I have a right to feel this way. I have a right to feel happy sometimes.

I am everybody's fucked-up little brother.

It's difficult to just decide to stop loving somebody. Well, deciding is very easy. Doing it is another thing.

I saw two people having sex in a park today. (Welcome to Finland.) I stopped and stared at them to figure out whether it was a rape. I don't know what I would have done if it had been a rape, but you must do something. I wonder if sex feels as stupid and ugly as it looks.