According to my family, I was one of those brats that took advantage of my privilege to cry when I was a baby. You know the type of baby that cries so much that you find yourself exploring the dark realms of your mind,plotting torturous methods that will silence him or her? I was that baby.
The look on his face made her afraid to blink
It was a blank expression that reflected the current state of his heart
Despite this, she still saw her hero
I spread my heart out on a piece of paper and invited the world to observe its structure, feel its texture and hear the stories that produced its beat.
Inside the deep corners of my mind I discovered that my thoughts had souls. I stared at each and every one fearlessly; before I knew it I was playing with angels and fighting with the demons.
The place is familiar, you’ve been here before. You know what will be said and felt; you know the details of the aftermath and how to temporarily resolve it. You know it all; everything. With all that you know you are still a fool, because only a fool would still be here. Continue reading