I don't believe anymore that there is someone out there for you. I refuse to believe, if there was, that she would be perfect in every way that I've so densely dreamt about. It is sick that I think like this and put my trust in a "hope" that doesn't fulfill my needs. I need love. I need compassion. I will rot and die soon if these aren't met. I will give up. I will become like dust again, only with a twist. A twist that will turn into  a massacre of many things, starting with the destruction of stability within my own mind. Then where will love be? Where will living be? It won't matter ... nothing does.