The diary's been filling up.
And i reread it today,
It was weird, because every memory i had down was a sad one. Those that cant be put into words, masked and made okay so that i can post it up here.
It was like a ride through the memories that stung.
Funny how a blank book could give me so much more comfort than a person.
It's been a long while, i haven't cried telling someone about my problems. Someone who was just there to listen and give me the comfort, but i got it. Thank you, you'd never see this but thank you. And amidst all the words exchanged the real ones deep down just haven't been made known. I don't know if i'm even allowed to. oigame gritar, le veo.
I guess life just has a weird way of working things.
How is it that things can get worse and I feel better?
No comments:
Post a Comment