We know its always best to write with a heavy hand because it's easier to split yourself in two. The unfiltered you, and the you that you subconsciously wish that you were. But today I've decided to take my metaphorical quil and give something new a try.
Am I ok? I'm asked this constantly, so much that I've almost become accustomed to lying but that's besides the point. No filters. No take backs. No second thoughts. No pressure.
I try not to think of you a lot, because non physical records of those who've hurt you are temporary. It's a waste of time. Never dwell on a feeling you'll never convey. Your head is the most immaculate and beautiful diary there is but if you waste all your pages your head might start a new chapter without you. Make your diary worth reading, then share it with someone you trust.
Never waste pages, only ink. Ink could be your closest friend, it may betray you in a second but it never stops giving. Don't let someone you despise become who you wish you were. Let them rot with the rest.
Hi. You don't know me (even if you think you might), but I'd like to give you advice that might hurt you. Save your pages. Move on with the rest. Remeber that what makes you happy should be internally cherished, but in most every case for a person like you, it's always best to think in ink.
