A Retrospective:

It's strange to look back, seeing this place takes me back to stranger, darker days. I'm on Mexico now, no Deutschland, no Paris... but fucking Mexico. I'm 26 years old, and people call me ''Doctor'' now. Strange isn't?

How I came to be here is kind of a funny story for I can trace all of my wishes to fly within the roots of my romances. Yes, my human romance: There was Celine and Paris, there was Saya and the US, Laura en Belgium, there was Natalia and somehow I wanted to stay still and just let life pass me by... On and on and on there have been romances, on many places, on different times, on different ages, on different hearts. 

Looking back, I still can't recall if whatever I felt for each one of them was real, beacuse in the end I never cried, or felt compelled to do so. It is true that I grieved each one of them for days, weeks and worst cases, even months; it's also true that I mourned as if the end had come and there was only me on a wasteland. Years later I found myself at the edge again, yet, somehow I can't sleep, it's been weeks since the last time I closed my eyes and saw faces like echoes on my dreams; and when I run, I dream of them, and when I sleep, I dream of dead. My own dead. 

I used to think of this place as something I ''had'' to do to keep my sociopathic alter at bay. Now, 3 years after my last entry I see that this was something more. It was my diary, my life at words, and whatever I felt it was important enough to mention. 

I need this, because there are things right now that keep me awake.