When I access my mind like this it turns somewhat into a blank.

It becomes a sort of codex that recites itself on it’s behalf, and willingly hust like that.

It’s not as if I had some sort of filter on top of it, it allows me just to write.

Willingly, and endlessly.

These stories… these feelings

They feel familiar.

And they feel painful,

Especially to someone with a story like mine.

Like ours

I still remember those moments, and I can relate to those insecurities.

That guy…

He’s trying his hardest.

It’s not enough, not to someone like her.

Then it just becomes reason to being mean.

I feel you man.

Keep on, just as I am.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s