Trust is always a good idea. For someone else.

It's sad really that here's me, single pringle and have been for my entire life, having people come to me for advice. For relationship advice. I've had people ask if they should break up with their boyfriends, if they should go that extra step with their significant other, or if he really should ask her out. And it's interesting that whilst I only give small tidbits of advice, never anything major that could completely sway their decision, or make them do something drastic, just enough to help them clear their minds and think easier, they still listen to what I say.
I don't know if he's really flirting, or just being a nice guy, so why should you come to me for advice? I've never been in the same situations as any of these people, and they know it, yet they ask me. It does make me feel a bit honoured, but at the same time slightly used. It makes me feel that they only talk to me because I'm good at listening, that they don't really care for my friendship at all.
I recently became closer to a girl after bonding over Barbie movies, and she's asking me for advice, but I know that I will have to to deal with the aftermath either way it goes.
I don't mind being used as a diary most of the time, I'm good at letting people just talk with no interruptions. Sometimes it would be nice if it weren't just a one-way diary though. I've tried to talk to people about my own problems, but they either just sympathise without understanding, interrupt through out it, or overshadow it with their own problems. Either way it makes me feel pathetic.
I'm not even sure why I'm writing this actually. I just don't really know what to do.
Should I continue being there for people, but have no shoulder of my own to rest on, or distance myself from their shit and try and work out my own?

If I wanted to play mind games, I’d buy a rubix cube.

I feel like I'm just moving along in this life so slowly, my pace sluggish and weary. I go through each day doing the same damn repetitive things, and it's driving me insane. I dream of stars, and comets, and an endless, deep blue midnight sky, but when I awake, I'm greeted by the foggy air of the morning, and the whirl of the air con. I've found that my own chance of happiness is quickly vanishing, so I've been focusing all my time and energy on helping others. I'm not even sure why I bother, but I guess that it gives me a small sense of hope that maybe, just maybe someone will help me in return.
Though I've realised by now not to get my hopes high. The higher they are, the harder they fall. And they always fall.

fly fairy, fly.

I am a beautiful fairy.
I have colourful wings that gently flutter on my back, lifting me high into the air and carrying me along with the soft summer breezes.
I float through the air, with bees buzzing and birds humming all around me. I fly with the butterflies, and I am wild, a pretty little part of nature that no one can capture.
I am completely free and I don't need the affections of an insanely handsome, but out of reach man to make me happy.

I am so tempted to just fly right out of here and never come back.