You know everyone always tells me to write...it seems be a very popular source of reading for a lot of ppl...but I think I will stop. I am such a dreamer, and living in these fairytales I create for myself with my pen only drags me down. It dawned upon me that I need to be making memories, and not doodling things down that I wish were possible. In my own little dreamworld inside my head, I know I can take myself whereever I want to be..but the truth is, I'd rather be there. Writing would literally be my only form of escape...from living. And now it seems living is my only form of escape from living a lie. I want to be free, feel free, and breathe the fresh night air..and wonder to myself...what is this all about?
