I'm stuck inside a forever daydream. I need an outlet for all of this. Writing is very special to me in ways I don't really want to explain. Probably because I can't.
No one really knows what a writer means in their stories, only that their stories are their own and so therefor they should know what they mean. 
I certainly know what I mean. Or at least I think I do.
I mean to cure myself while writting for others. Approval is a big thing, and I search for it so desperatly.
Ive been told it's slightly unhealthy.
Then again I'm just a normal student, dreaming of being part of something bigger.
As we all tend to do.
I hope it destroys me so beautifully until, when the end comes, I can no longer move.