It feels like the more I have going on, the more I have the write about, the less I actually want to write.

There’s something about writing that, while therapeutic in some ways, also makes things seem… more real. More permanent. There’s something sacred about writing, about the things we put in to writing… and I just feel like I only want to write… I don’t even know what.

Sometimes I want to write about something but just can’t bring my self to do it. It hurts almost.

Sometimes I feel like it’s my responsibility to write. Like I have to put down my experiences because I can, and maybe some one else needs them- needs to understand what these things feel like, or else needs to know that someone else feels the same. But some times that’s hard. Really hard.

Maybe if I force myself to journal I’ll feel better.

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