Walking All Alone

Walking by ones shelf is rather lonely. I mean you have no one to talk too. No one to just know that they’re there. I don’t know why I’m writing about that. I really don’t. I don’t know why I’m writing when I don’t feel the need to write in here right now. I’m fixing to go through one of my many phases I guess of not writing. But just being.

I mean I love my od and everything it’s great really it is. It’s a good outlet. When it’s truthful and honest. But sometimes how can one be honest when they’re afraid of what others might think or say about there honesty. It’s hard to express thoughts that sometimes aren’t always fully there.

I use to think I had great ideas. But my great ideas turned into idle plans that weren’t so hot. I don’t know what I’m talking about. I don’t kno what I’m writing about. This is so strange. So unlike me not to know. I always know. I’ve always known that writing like this could be a mistake. But yet I’m still writing and not stopping and not planning on stopping. If that makes any sense. I don’t know. But sigh.

Sometimes being afraid of ones own thoughts and feelings is enough to drive ones shelf into insanity

~Sonja~