(no subject)
If I could say one thing I would tell you to understand. Understand not that I am cold or uncaring but I am determined and yet confused. You can probably read me like a book. I guess you haven't gotten to the part where the coffee-spilt pages have all the words running together. That is the part I need you to understand, the missing piece of the story. The part you don't get to know because, although I let you borrow the story, it will never belong to you.
Sometimes people hurt so much that they take parts of their story and tear them out, page by page. The hardest part isn't tearing out the pages, or rewriting the chapter. The hardest part is realizing the right time to let go of the pages and watch them float away in the wind.
I mean, everyone has their own book, their own story. Those stories are what make us all tick. They are all simple, yet complicated, easy to read and hard to understand. When you meet some people you start a chapter, some are short and sweet, others carry on for pages. If I were to tell you my story you might get lost somewhere in the midst of thoughts and confusion. My chapters flow together as smooth as a car accident in the middle of the freeway.
The important people carry on and continue to pop up in later events, not as a run-in but as a thought or a habit or even a wish on a star. The important people, good or bad, make an impact that changes your style of writing and the type of point of view you have. The person that will change your life the most will be the person you give your story to, unedited, and with all the pages. It is what they do with that that determines the end of your book, whether they continue to help you write it, or they throw it away, making you start all over again, alone.
Sometimes people hurt so much that they take parts of their story and tear them out, page by page. The hardest part isn't tearing out the pages, or rewriting the chapter. The hardest part is realizing the right time to let go of the pages and watch them float away in the wind.
I mean, everyone has their own book, their own story. Those stories are what make us all tick. They are all simple, yet complicated, easy to read and hard to understand. When you meet some people you start a chapter, some are short and sweet, others carry on for pages. If I were to tell you my story you might get lost somewhere in the midst of thoughts and confusion. My chapters flow together as smooth as a car accident in the middle of the freeway.
The important people carry on and continue to pop up in later events, not as a run-in but as a thought or a habit or even a wish on a star. The important people, good or bad, make an impact that changes your style of writing and the type of point of view you have. The person that will change your life the most will be the person you give your story to, unedited, and with all the pages. It is what they do with that that determines the end of your book, whether they continue to help you write it, or they throw it away, making you start all over again, alone.