You Can't Make This Shit Up

A schizophrenic's long drawn out descent into sanity

I miss the old me. The moody, trash talking, road raging me. I fell in love with crying at the drop of the hat and laughing at everything - funny or not. It made me feel special, different, superior.

Music sounded better. Conversations were more interesting. People were more interesting. Let's face it - I was more interesting. Life through this sepia lens was fun for a while. Now it seems bland, tasteless.