Saturday, November 2, 2013
100 word story #1
I would- if I could- just cry and cry and cry. I'm not sad but still I'll cry. Crying is not a sin, it's not something to be ashamed about because it is a relief. It's an escapism. So I will cry because my heart needs to escape. It can't handle of confusion, too much hope and happiness. It doesn't trust itself to not doubt every single one of them. So I cry; secretly hoping that my little dark cocoon will leak- and I'll slither myself out of it. To cry is not a cowardice act. It's an act of freedom.
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Enlighten me, please.