last night i wrote and wrote about everything that does not exist. sometimes when life seems crummy.make a couple characters and make them dance in the pouring rain. Yesterday I was talking to someone and they said they liked me story. It was basically about this one guy who lost this love, this one perfect shy woman. She always wore this one hat that resembles the hat the woman in the painting in my room wears. Her eyes twinkle when the moonlight hits it, and she has left him, forever. He remembers her, and the way she smiled. But she's not coming back, as hard as he tried to keep her, she's gone. Corny i know, but it was sad, and i cannot write the same way i did last night. it's a rush of emotion. Well if someone constantly felt the way i did all this time, i now know why people decide to put a pistol to their head and shoot.

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