Mysteries

Maybe that's why it always appealed to me so much and why it's one of the few books I can read and reread without getting bored or loving it any less.  Just the way everything comes together shapes exactly the sort of thing that describes precisely who I wanted to be.

If people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.

It's the sort of thing that applies to anyone, anywhere.  It just fits.  It simply makes sense.  I always wanted to be the hurricane even if I never consciously expressed it, but I found that I was never more than just a bit of drizzle. I was never anything monumental or extraordinary or wonderful.  I was just there.  And occasionally I would express a bit of something but it would quickly simmer away into nothingness and then it wouldn't matter anymore.

My writing is becoming twisted and convoluted because I can't think straight and I'm so stressed.  All of my attempts at eloquence are falling short and failing and I still have absolutely no idea what I can be so brutally honest about in a personal narrative that other people will eventually end up reading.  I fear that it will turn into another piece of crap that isn't worth reading and that saddens me.

I want to learn to write the truth and write it meaningfully, emotionally, not barring any emotions or thoughts simply because they don't seem to fit, but rather to work them in elegantly.  I wish I could express anything that well, or leave that sort of impression on people.  Unfortunately, it seems as though I am entirely incapable of such feats.  And so I remain to flounder in my own inabilities at worthwhile accomplishments.  Apologies.