A sentence mulled over and over until it loses meaning. A phrase at first so delicious and perfect, becomes stale and dismissive. The lust becomes lacklustre. The chase ends at a disappointing stop.
right way? Could I say this better? Does it even make sense?” I fear expressing myself wrong, wondering exactly how writers manage to make things just so, finding the most suitable phrase without rambling. How they condense. How they don’t get scared on people not getting it.
I’m looking for a new era, to begin again.
I cannot find salvation in my words, for I’ve given them over to someone else.
think my appreciation is enough, because they are so bloody great.’ I will Snapchat silly moments with friends, I’ll take videos of those I care for, because I’ll be sitting down one day and it will all feel more difficult than I thought possible. Those moments of happiness, of simple silliness help ease the pressure off my chest when it feels a little harder to breath, to think, to focus.