First, read my last post. It's a deep one, a sad one, a mildly suicidal one. But what I wanted to say today is that the season finalee of Glee once again proves that I can cry at TV and movies when I can't cry at my own life. I haven't cried over my own life since Denise died. And before that I can't even remember. I feel like crying sometimes, but I just can't anymore. Sad.