"Go away, I want to be alone!" I shouted, the irony of it is, that as I finished my sentence, I realized that I was going to indeed be alone for a very long time.
Always had a love for writing. I get anxious, angry, paranoid, upset, worried, nervous, really easily, but with a pen in my hand the world gets kinda quiet, and i can write it all out and not feel so buried in all these emotions that drag me down everyday.
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