Will I ever see my spine? (offthewallpixie) wrote,
Will I ever see my spine?
offthewallpixie

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strange days indeed

it's six am and i'm still awake. i've been confessing my insides all night and it's not that i feel either better and drainer or full of more and impatient to continue confessing. it's this weird medium that could possibly be something unto itself. . it's me realizing that i have everything to confess, but only because i want someone to understand. understand why i say the things that i do when the wrong thing is in fact said to me. understand where some of my fears were conceived. it goes on in different directions. 
i wrote my love a six-page letter that i have every intention of reading to him, perhaps rather shortly - i haven't decided that part yet. it seems that he likes, or doesn't mind at the least, when i read him my letters. .i think i like that, too, because i feel like a composer, performing their piece. no neumes to indicate any pitch or melody because the rhythm is within and flows like water as my lips and tonue and mouth move, illustrating the sounds that form the words that define my feelings, thoughts, etc. thankfully, i ended the letter pleased with myself, which will perhaps make reading more natural, and less awkward and i maybe won't stutter so bad like i do sometimes with him.
i am just a pensive little girl. i hear that it can be really quite adorable at times, but who knows.
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