The Black Agony

The headline of this text doesn't exist because of my feelings. I put it there because I like those words "black" and "agony" - they may describe my new clothes, and they may describe my past as well. I'm writing in English because I've always wanted to write a book, a real big book, and these bloody computers don't have some Finnish letters. Anyway, if you think I'm writing this to show my intelligence or English skills, you may as well be right. I'm selfish and enjoying it right now.
I've been doing some thinking today. It's not so unusual, but the way I'm thinking has changed dramatically in these few months I've spent here in Reading. Okay, I still got panic attacks and spend many hours at a day thinking what the others may think about me. But that's just a little piece of my new thoughts. I'm finding my peace. Although I never became a musician (or not yet...), I feel happy most of the time. I'm living with people who care about me, who don't care about my past and the things I've done.
But still... "I hear your voice through these walls"... That can be understood in two ways. The ghosts of my past are still everywhere, they are haunting every step I take here. And yet... I fell in love. For the second time of my life. All I've got now is the scent of him and his old electric guitar, and the sound of his laughter that really echoes through my living room wall, because he lives next door. When I see him I want to touch his handsome face, feel his warm lips, but those times are over. They are over and they're not coming back. And the strange thing is that I like this feeling - it tells me my feelings are back and that is a big step on the road of getting better. After a year I may be back to my old self again. And then... I'll finally be starting to make myself known in the world of music. I think this is enough for one night, because my back is hurting in this painful sitting position, and I need some sleep before tomorrow.
Be good, my friends, and have fun. We'll see again.