i could write a million words about who i am, or what i like, or who i want to be. I could fill up pages with my thoughts, feelings, fears, and insights into every day life. I could pour out every truth from the deepest caverns of my conscious and every lie from the depths of my mistakes.
but i'd just end up empty.
and you'd just end up bored.
just came back from my best friends brother’s funeral. never cried so much in my life. i didn’t even know the kid.
