LJ
It's funny how I've come back to LJ to write. Like it's my little secret space away from
FB because it is so god-forgotten, because sometimes we just need to write and talk into some sort of oblivion, but yet not complete oblivion because you never know who might read it.
I miss writing--writing that had artistry and meaning. As of now, all these are little rants, lacking the sophistication and wit of good literature, banished here to escape the judgement of FB.
Perhaps I will eventually write again. Especially now that I am feeling this way about somebody again.
Clichés alas. Writing because of the muse. Though you, dearest, would probably laugh, but then blush and be flattered that you could be my muse.
I want you to be many things but I fear such would make it harder for me to escape unscathed. I think you scare me more than all the others have, though ironically I believe you adore me more than they did.