This is private.

This is private and I shouldn't tell you, reader. Life will go on, and I'll wake up tomorrow, and go back to my bleak reality, and perhaps regret it, sharing with you. Isn't it wrong? To say things out loud hoping people will understand? I have a lot to say but it feels like a violation of something when it's strung outwards on the space of life's movement, stretching thinner and thinner until it's just air. Sometimes talking doesn't do a whole lot of good. The things...