L'Immoraliste. If Michel killed Marceline? I thought that firstly. Now I'm not so sure. Everything is relative. He said he loved her. She was naive. You can't sacrifice yourself for anybody too much.
The worst thing I've done was said as a good choice. Now there's only your calm, quiet music instead your words. There's November. This year was gentle for me, no sadness before today. Probably all of it I used on the beggining of September. It's more than two months and my minds go back to these days again and again and again. Maybe these happens replaced thinking about what I've done.
I don't want to go back to last talking. I was so stupid believing there can be anyone after you. Sorry, I tried to not be so selfish and what? Easy things make me bored so fast.
I can't cheat friends, but who can be friend with psychic, changeable person?
Okay, for everyday I'm nice and happy. But, you see. I think only about myself. Then about pleasures (including making other people happier). Then about study. Then books, poetry, music and sad things.
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