It's sixteen years now since he passed. Blunt memories of the kind of friendship we had. The memories we shared are now clouds I struggle to gather in my sky just to give even a drop of hope that we'll ever meet again. I'm jealous... I'm jealous of the way he's happy up there. Happy without me.
Think of this blog as a diary gone public; a mix of spilt ink, overthinking, and poetic chaos. I write what hearts whisper at 2 a.m., then pretend it’s art. Welcome to madness.
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Andrew's Story
My little brother didn’t understand. He dragged a chair, stood on it, pressed his lips to the glass frame of the picture on the wall, and wh...
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Spring is here It's the season of love The little blind princess has mistakenly picked daisy for a flower in her favorite garden. She...
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I knew someone once... She had her fire burning so bright when she was eighteen. Most times she only cries now and won't tell anybody...

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