This is an important one
So there exists nights where i stay up to lose myself for awhile and allow myself the vulnerability to cry as little or as much as i want to about something as trivial as a passing flame, some guy not even worth the first tear that fell. Because to me, it was significant. He was important. The way i felt put that person in some sort of pedestal.
Tonight, i can't seem to catch my breath. I can't seem to breathe right. There is a part of me that knows that things are different now. There are changes happening everywhere i turn. The changes aren't necessarily a bad thing, it is just a thing.
Never once have i questioned what i do with my life, who i am as a person, where i stand in the viewpoints of others. Now i do.
...
this was a draft from another day. when did i write this? when was this important? was it ever?
Tonight, i can't seem to catch my breath. I can't seem to breathe right. There is a part of me that knows that things are different now. There are changes happening everywhere i turn. The changes aren't necessarily a bad thing, it is just a thing.
Never once have i questioned what i do with my life, who i am as a person, where i stand in the viewpoints of others. Now i do.
...
this was a draft from another day. when did i write this? when was this important? was it ever?