... but I wanted to tell you a story. With its lowercase and its caps and its punctuation signs well used. There was once this girl who wanted her little words to seem big to people. Speak lots with so little. She also wanted to write the stories that didn't let her sleep at night, give life to the characters that moved and talked into her head as if they were acting on a play. She wanted to write about this artist who she would call Olivia Agnes, because it actually sounded as an artsy name. She wanted her to be the messy half-smile girl whose eyes were in hers everytime she closed them. She wanted her to be an explosion of all the things she couldn't be. She wanted Olivia Agnes to have her hair up on a ponytail with wild hairs falling next to her face and she wanted Olivia Agnes to wear a big lazy white t-shirt while she painted.
But this was one of that amount of stories that would never come out of her head, because she couldn't give them the right shape. In words, they didn't fit in what she had on her mind.
She was really sorry, just so you know.
