You don't hurt the way I do. We all show pain in different ways and we all express our emotions horribly. The day becomes easier without bringing up the horrors of bleak life. My day seems short and almost numb. As if time doesn't have a certain time when it's going to show up. Time is relatively low and time comes and goes. Time is what makes a day past, counting number just to end up repeating themselves and then continuing to work the same way over and over again. Time has been around for ever and you can't really change it now. Everyone is already used to those 12 numbers that is what makes a day. Time is horrors of bleak life.
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Shit Journal, where I write shit
RandomI don't really know what this is. Just a place to write instead of my hand cramping journal that I constantly lose in the overwhelming mess that makes of my room and life. So this is like an only journal where I can write shit stories, write about m...
