Thursday, July 19, 2012


I was never good with words. I always try my very best to express the way I feel through the words I speak. Without success, I try to write. The feel of the pen gliding freely on that white blank sheet, with thousands of words running in my mind per minute, I like it I love it. 

I love to write more than I speak.

My mind is filled with endless confrontations. Of meaningless self debates. Of 'what ifs'. Of what could be. Of what might have been. Lastly, of thoughts I can never get rid off, wondering if it's right to speak of words I'm sure I'll regret saying right after.

Night after night, I stay up late wondering how good it must be to be fully understood. To be capable of at least speaking the whole truth. The way I feel. The way I think about things. 

I should confront you. I should say how I truly feel. Pros and cons be damned.

Next time, fide et fortitudine, I will. 

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