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Sunday, May 2, 2010

There is a reason as to why I changed my privacy settings to only myself having permission to read my blog. My thoughts are too private, too pained, too real. Every bit of my emotions is far too incredibly real. I feel hurt all the time. I feel like there is nothing I can do to fill the voids that have carved pits all over the surface of my body. I'm lost and broken. Confused and frightened. I feign interest to the people I once considered my best friends when I would much prefer solitude. No, solitude is too weak a word. Everything is too this or too that. Solitude equals peaceful silence, but isolation is synonymous to perfection. And I can't help but strive perfection. It's one of my many flaws. I can't help but be the way I am. I am real. I am me. Without other eyes judging my words, I can reveal the wounds that have poisened my heart with grief. I can clean the pain with my tears. Here I am.

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