[written on a folded piece of paper i found in my flannel pocket]
there's not enough paper in the world to explain everything that goes on inside my head. i suffer from chronic migraines on a regular basis; my dad says i think too much but my doctor says it's the meds.
i can never go anywhere with ease; walking isn't the grandest luxury for me seeing as i have to pack up and carry my thoughts wherever i go.
i don't think ive ever really had the chance to enjoy a quiet moment.
do i think too much because im smart or because im worried? i don't mean to analyse everything, it just sort of happens. i notice every little detail; i like knowing the small stuff more than the big picture. is that bad?
i don't know.
but i don't think ive ever really had the chance to enjoy a quiet moment.
ESTÁ A LER
Spring Mountain Treatment Centre
Poesiadull faces glance out the windows; sitting with their sadness drooping their eyelids they perpetually stare out and away in search for better days.
