as time ticks on and I grow more confident in my writing, (albeit manufactured confidence,)I find myself wanting to share these pickings with the people around me.
"hey look... I wrote this""please handle with care" is what I want to say,"I changed that sentence 9 times, don't skim over it"
and in that limbo state of waiting for a reaction,I feel as if everything I had written that far would amount to nothing, dust so fine that the slightest breeze would blow it away.
how fragile my world has become.
