Sunday, July 15, 2012

So I get sick of my own voice. I get sick of reading my own words and thoughts and typing them daily. I get sick of submerging in myself.

Get in. Get out.

But I can't. I can't escape.

Everywhere you go, there you are.

Someone says this to me as I hand him his skinny vanilla latte. And I've heard it before. I heard it in Sheppard Pratt. The social worker said it in that cool deep voice of his.

And yeah, it's true. And yeah, it's a profound statement. And yeah, it sounds beautiful.

But shut up. Just shut up.

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