RESTLESS

Restless am I, which I don’t know why. Intertwining roots might add up to my confusions. I can’t decipher them at this point but I have a strong faith with this writing that it would be able to straighten the mess. It still depends on how open I am to writing. I am still inhibited even to myself. It’s like I am not so brave in facing the truth. The truth gives me headache, I suppose. I might be beating around the bush but it should not be the case. Every area has to be embarked upon once and for all.

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