years and years

Today, since I woke up I've been writing a lot, in my book, the only book where I can express myself freely, and while I was doing this I realize that I have that book since two years ago, so I decided to read it from the beginning. What I notice was, that I write only when I'm sad, or I feel weird, and constantly is about friends, my mom's deseases or the person I love (which is the same person from the last 4 years) and at the end of the day, when I read it all, how I felt?...HORRIBLE. I ended like... what the fuck is going on with my brain? Is it damaged? I complain about things that maybe in the moment are a big deal for me, but when I read it again is like... "my god, sometimes you're so immature" But there where also some writings where I said: "Shit man... and I would like to travel in time and go to the past so I can help my self"... I also realize that I'm multifaceted, I contradict myself a lot, and some day I can be all happy and full of glorious and a few hours later I turn all pessimist and a completely moron... And the truth is: I can't change, years ago I turned all defensive and that helping me a lot in my life, in my way of make new friendships... and honestly at the end of the day I say: That's me, and I'm cool with the way I am, so people... if you can't accept me like this... see you. And... I LOST MY FUCKING POINT ... god, that means this writing was pointless.