I’d like to think
that I’m gifted with words. I have a talent for putting them together in ways reminiscient of poetry. I some how manage to take these simple little things that mean so very little by themselves and make ideas of inspriration, emotion, and power. Because I’d like to think I have that gift, sometimes I have to use it in ways that aren’t exactly what I want. What I want might not be the right thing— and so I use the stupid simple things that don’t mean much and use them to hurt me which shouldn’t be possible but its the best thing, really. It’s the right thing to do. I needed to have the truth laid-open, with brutal, soul ripping honesty. And it sucks. But its the right thing to do.
