Is it really just a story? Is that what I'm doing? All of this is true. It's not a story, it's real. But how real? Why am I doing this? Attention? Entertainment? Because I have nothing to do? I don't know.
As I said before, the first sentence I wrote, you're not here because you want to be.
I don't love many people. My list is small. Kennedy, obviously, but that's a different love than the rest, Irina, McKenzie, Mia, and Leo, even though I'm sure Leo fucking hates me now. He's still like a brother. That, I'm sure, won't change.
I will get to the real reason for this chapter now.
The mountains. I've mentioned them a lot. The mountains are everywhere. Everything. Maybe. Not literally, of course. They go up and down. They crumble. They eventually leave, and then thousands of years later, there's a new one. They're wonders, they really are.
They calm me down. Make me happy. I draw them all the time. I'll explain more later. For now, I'll continue with the story. You will know all about the mountains when this is done. You will know all about my mountains.
(His fucking mountains. they are ours)
(see you soon -humor)
YOU ARE READING
its just a story
RandomI'm not actually sure what this is going to be. I'll figure it out as I write, I guess. This'll be one of those things that I start and have no intention of finishing, I can see that now, but I guess it will pass the time until something happens. Un...
