I've been haveing the strangest dreams. Wearwolves, the pope, family, trains, walking to nowhere. leaving ppl behind. why the fuk was i a nun? Wakeing up in coffins, realizing that I'm dead...
I think i need to start writeing in my book that heather bought me... but there is jus something about a clean page that scares me... I could write anything i choose to... But i never know where to start... so many ideas in my head, i know that once i started everything would empty on to that page... why am i crying? the dreams in which i'm dying are the best i've ever had... and that scares me... I think i'm afraid of what will be spilt onto thoes pages... I dont want to face the past... I need to stop dwelling in the past... it's over now... nothing is going to hurt me any more... but i'm still so scared... and still crying... and someone once told me that if you dont want someone to read what you have written than dont write it down... and what is locked away in my mind i would only share with one other... only because he knows so much already... he would never hurt me.. and i know that without a shadow of a doubt... I love you Timothy... and i've never ment that more.
