Cynicalism is a terrible thing to have.

I'm 17. I'm too young to have that. You can be a right cynic when you are 38, fat, balding and unmarried. But not when you're 17, young, skinny and the posesser of a new, clean unwrapped future ahead to destroy.

I don't remember the days when I don't second guess the people around me, believe in relationships and giving second chances.

Neither can I remember the days when I believed in working for what I want, fighting for my rights or disclosing secrets to close friends.

Life is one overbearing fucker.