...Is about me, and I know it.
I hate it. I hate how someone could draw inspiration from something like me being crushed like I was and turn it into something so beautiful. Every chord was drawn from us and every last emotion and change of pitch thrived on our relationship.
I wish my writing could be more reflective on my mood 85% of the time, but it isn't. The blog has become a place to dump my fears, inner demons and anxiety before I sleep or right after I become provoked with intense thought. I also wish my writing was less about Evelyn, but expressing my inner thoughts and shedding skins is synonymous with her.
Next time around will be good though, I promise. I'm too tired and sick of writing at the moment to elaborate but I've got a juicy sex issue burning up inside. To three(or 4?)some, or not to?
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