I recently bought a journal in the Bargain section at Border's.
It's black. Simple.
A journal with no lines.
This doesn't suit me very well.
I have no idea where to begin
with it.
I want to fill it with:
everything and then again nothing.
What shit.
I'm so exhausted.
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I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.
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