Feb
5th
Thu
5th
I keep going in and out and back and forth and hot and cold with this.
Everyday i write i really long entry oozing with soul and character and realness, just bleeding personality and struggles and victories and ideas, and wonders. Things that tear at my insides and have me pounding my head against walls, going off into some made up world, where only those creatures, and that life, has the answers.
And then i delete it.
Because after typing it, and slightly getting it out of me….i feel better enough.
Maybe having other people see it? Read it? See a part of me, a part of my insides?
No, no no. I’ll never be ready for that.
