I write no more of bitterness cz I have none of it. I write not of relationships cz I bore you with it. I write of nothing. I keep to emptiness of blank pages, yet without bleakness. I write not of love, though I feel it and live it. I write not of us, nor of you. I yearn yet refrain. Unlike those emotions, they flow for a change.I am blessed, insane, overwhelmed.I am me, you, us. Like the trinity in twistedness. Weird and nice, bitchy and yet fine (in my own eyes, and hopefully in thine)

Life ain’t too bad. For a change, I am glad 🙂