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I am 21. I am depressed. Not in that i'm a bit sad, i cry sometimes when things aren't perfect in my world kind of depressed. the kind of depressed that means i can't cry. i try. i try everyday but tears won't come to me. i don't seek perfection for my world, i seek normality. i crave 'normal' whatever that may be. i crave what i used to be even though i know that that person was a mess. i miss her simply because she had the ability to wear her mask day in day out and only let it slip when there was too much vodka or too much pain for her to care who saw. i miss excitement. i miss the rush i used to get when vogue came through the letterbox and my search for the elusive near perfect replica of a £300 shoe for only £40. i miss that girl. but i don't think i want her back. because she led me to this place, this place of cloudy night that i live in, she created this fog that i walk through, that no-one can hear me through.

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