..... what to say? Isnt it true, I never have anything to say, but when I do, you get something to really read? lol, I would hope so, that my writing isnt empty words that are looked at and forgoten as soon as they have been read. Its common sence if you ask me, Im not trying to act wise, smart or anything like that, if you think so, tell me, I would really like that. I try to make sense, I like people to read what I write without getting to brored (if you become bored reading it, then either it seems to long or it isnt anything you like to read o.O.... it doenst sute everyone, Im sure of it). I like.. no.. I love to hear other oppinions on my thoughts, but I rearly get any, why do you think I say 'I LOVE COMMENTS'??? .. ok, lets not get dramatic x.x
Things I write have been carefully thought over and over, but dont get a form or shape until I write it here, anything I write here is fresh, even if I say I have been thinking it through a long time before (mostly just the day earlier), going through the details making sure that it is something worth the typing, not that Im lazy typing, when I get something that has been bothering me for a while (this matter.. for weeks, months) I have slowly observed, trying to understand my confusion, finding the answers around me, but when I cant tell myself that I understand it, because its easy to lie to yourself, but when you do, you know the lie from the truth, sometimes you dont know what you mean until you say it, even if it sounded strange, but then you can 'reword' it later, if it is worth it. I have been rewording everything I have written in this journal (everything that wasnt uselsess, you know what I mean if you care to notice). But the final version comes by itself, as if it had been a new thought, not something thought about or a while, I can write things like this, hoping anyone would take the time and read it, and comment on it, showing their oppinion, but dont you speak to me like you are some wise guy, talk to me on these matters like there isnt anything different between us, that we are both on the same level.. we are, so it wouldnt be hard, not after a while, let it go, your attitude, your behaviour, your actions, just talk to me, one on one, or a group to each other, anything would be loved, for whenever I write like this, long and thought full, I am not just speaking my mind, Im asking for help, not always help, but understanding, I want to talk, but I cant always open up like this everywhere, you can not see me talk like this on a busy street, but written words on paper, thrown over a crowded path, take your time to read it, to think about it, to answer and comment, but it isnt to hard to answer straight, because often the first words that pop up in your mind are the truth, soon to be mixed up and thought about deeply, often chaning their meaing, coming out as something totally new, something you wouldnt say without planing. I say I plan these words, but I cant, I try, but I have given up on it, so I just write my mind down to a peice of paper, thoughts that have been in my mind, over and over again.
just talk to me..... I feel left out, writing into a dying wind, still stuck in the same place, my atempt to open up, to talk, to understand and to be uunderstood, gone to waste... I like to talk... do you? When I write into a dead end, when I can not see anything happening, then I feel disapointed in myself,
'why the hell did you even think anyone would care reading it all, and as confusing as it is, why do you think anyone could comment on something they cant read straight'
but those words always come back to me, making me reconsider, try again... it might work, words just spoken ind anger and disapoint ment, dont listen to them, try again... but I get tired trying again and again, when I feel like I gave it my best, but written it in a book that no one looks at... is it true? Does anyone understand this well enough to be able to talk to me, or am I still a closed box, everone and no-one wants to see whats within, but I spring open from time to time, but being so lucky that when I do so, no one notices, I crawl back into my box, hoping I will spring up again, at the right moment...
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erotic, not exotic... fruits are exotic
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