i spend my days lost inside blank pages with a thousand stories waiting to be told...trapped at the other end of the pen. sometimes i feel like im holding a gun and all i can think about is how good it would feel to let it all out, but the nerve to pull the trigger never comes. i sit and wait and try to do so patiently...but its hard to wait long for nothing. by the end of the day i would take anything but when i finally put the gun down the page is still blank. tomorrow is another day. perhaps it will end without blank pages. maybe with my finger on the trigger ill find the courage to pull it.
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