I love to sew the edges of my thoughts back together and piece everything till it makes up a big picture. But it's gathering back all the pieces that the wind blew to shreds far apart from each other is what's going to make it difficult.
I think things over and over again, but in the end, I'll always just do things on impulse.
It's not what the mind thinks, it's where the heart wants to go. But where the heart wants to go, the words are forbidden. So one holds back.
I wish it was Christmas tomorrow. Of all the utter randomness. I don't like late nights, and yet I still deprive myself of sleep.
I really want to write a post where I can say what I want to say and write what I want to write, but the words, they just don't spill out of my hands. I want to express how I feel with all thats churning in my mind, but I can't seem to find the words to put it without revealing too much. It's hard being judged, especially when you are your own judge.
But I am relatively happy. Or at least I will be soon enough. I just need to keep going.
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