[Okay, so I decided to re-start and only keep the concepts, the writing method is a nice spin on things]
Oh, and for those reading this, no, there is not any resemblance of characters based on names. So if you’re reading this and your name is Becky, Arron, Sarah, or Skyler, the character isn’t you.
Something inside of me wants out. I don’t know what it is. But whatever it is, it’s tearing me apart from the inside out. I want to scream at the top of my lungs because I have no voice. I want to paint the sky because paper is too small. My mind is shutting down again. My thoughts are getting scrambled. I’m a broken record playing endlessly in a broken record-player. I’m fuzzy, and the noise I make is intolerable. Only I know the original beautiful song that once was and is no more. Continue reading
My Moonlit Night. 