Every thing's gonna be alright
Rockabye
Rockabye

But you know what? I'm happy. I really am. I'm happy with my too-low self esteem and my stalkerish male friends who think they love me and my friends that I can walk from the brink of suicide only to have them run off and try to kill themselves a few months later and then not even email me for another five months after that; I'm happy. The long silences that make up most of my phone conversations bring me some relative amount of peace, and the empty silence that echoes back at me from the words that I type here only serves to make me laugh. Because I can always laugh at things, you know. I've always been able to do that. So I'm happy, despite my chronic apathy and my procrastinating tendencies and the knowledge that I'll never be "driven" enough to become anyone special. I don't want to be anyone special; I don't really want stalkerish male friends who think they love me, or suicidal friends, or long distance friends or friends who make me feel petty and worthless. But I've got them, and for some strange reason that I have yet to comprehend, they make me happy.

And you know I ought to have gone to sleep a long time ago when I start getting this sappy. So, uh, I'll just, y'know, stop now. Yeah. This is me stopping, because I'm being stupid. Woo.