SG screen shots

• I can never find myself this honest. Ever. I can try to express myself and spill my little, spewing heart out but it still never feels like I'm telling the truth. I am so accustomed to hiding my life and hiding my stupid, beating heart, and hiding what ever pain comes with it. An entire half of my life has been cooped in the dark for such a long time that I now find it difficult to expose or even show any part of myself. I now find it difficult to write. I'm slowly getting there, but it's not like I'm going to pull out my stories left and right now. These stories were my moss-covered anchors. I'm trying not to be so secretive anymore. I feel so heavy, walking around with my heart aches on my slouching shoulders and pretending to shrug them off. I can never really shrug them off. Not really. But now I'm trying to shed as much light as I can to my pale, cocaine-white, dusty stories.