Reflection

[hanakochan]

Today I lifted a page from my old journal. So much of my last year at home in Oregon were spent as less than happy times, when I had a lot of emotion built up, when my feelings were as thick as butter in snow. I used to write, and I used to feel.

Now, I feel like I cannot write and I cannot feel.
I see there is something missing.

Comments

[thatsmrabe2u]

you can always write for me :) i'll read it.