katheryn.

An Apology

I had started this story with the intention of manifesting something so great in a short amount of time that it gave hope to the subject and went against the stereotype of time holding capability. You don't live for an amount of time and suddenly have something snap inside you, telling you you're old enough to love someone or you've been together long enough it is now part of the appropriate plan. It doesn't work like that. Im rambling off, sorry.

With this I had faced a certain amount of trials and tribulations including make-ups, break-ups, vanity, self loathing, falling back into my old tracks and lots more. I had turned to writing about what was going on around me in my tattered staples notebook with the help of various extended metaphors and eventually allowing the negativity of the subjects that affected me to leak into what i loved. Writing.

I love writing about the whistle of the leaves in the evening of that faithful spring, the look of content on your cat/dogs face when you stroke their head and tell them you love them because you're the only one they get this from, the insomnia of those late nights where all you have is the faint noises from the street and the blur of your air conditioning, broken blood vessels staining your neck from when your partner sucked their love right out of you so discreetly they felt pleasure (aka hickeys) and loving someone so unconditionally you can't fathom the words to explain what exactly it means.

I intend on breaking free of these chains and continue living for myself, whether I'm accompanied or not by the people I'm expected to call peers but honestly, its all too temporary to care anymore. Just 402 days before I leave this place forever. I intent on continuing to cultivate my passion and breed my inner thoughts because oh God there are so many beautiful things I could share with the world but I have a habit of writing about the bad. Maybe I'm reflecting my life.

The relationship between the reader and the writer is a very delicate one and I hold this aura of anonymosity that makes me feel like I could sit with you, legs folded and tell you my whole world from the galaxies drawn on my hands to the 3AMs i spend having nervous breakdowns but cleaning up and saying I'm okay, and thats special.

If anyone does know me personally and is reading this, please don't let this stick with you. Remember me for my smile and the way I asked you how you were too many times and hopefully the way you told me the truth all through.

I also dedicate this to and Sheikh who has been pushing me to update. Thank you for putting up with my vague remarks and letting me share your textbook way too many times.

Basically, I end this saying i aim to finish all the books i have started whether anyone actually reads them or not.

Sincere Love,

Erica Parkes.