a thoughtless 51

I couldn't sleep last night. So I began to write a letter. I kept on writing and writing and writing and I couldn't stop, I still can't stop. The words are spilling over the pages, my sentences are bcoming paragraphs which transform into pages of text; limitless letters that somehow formulate things of meaning. I'm writing things down that I never intended to tell anyone but I am telling you these things because these things need to be heard and they have to be heard by you. But I want to stop. I think I need to stop.

But I won't. Because I want to tell you so much, there are so many gaps that need to be filled. I just don't know how, and this idea, this letter, it's all I have to cling to anymore.

It'll all make sense when you open your letterbox.


Grace said...

I love this passage.

Love Grace.

Catherine said...

thank you x

nikki said...

is this from perks of being a wallflower? or did you write this yourself?

Catherine said...

i wrote this myself, i'm afraid i haven't read perks of being a wallflower x