I'm sure it'll be a boring trip; you know how the saying goes "What happens in Vegas winds up on YouTube before your ass gets home" (or something like that)


Not Good EnoughNever good enough. The silence tells me so. Yes, cleaning is lax; yes, weight could be lost; yes, perfection is nowhere near me. But...have I ever been cherished? Have I ever been loved as unconditionally as I have loved? I don't think so. Struggling to pull myself above the waters of sadness, fresh currents pull me under, and instead of being rescued, I am pushed down. Do you know how many nights I've cried myself to sleep? I doubt it. Would you care if I said anything? I doubt it. Your unhappiness with me is obvious, and yetNot Good Enough


RecantationDetective Mitch Walker was used to being alone. Preferred it, in fact. His apartment was stark-one chair and table in the living room, his kitchen had two barstools at the counter, and his bedroom had his bed and night stand. His only real vice, aside from probably working himself to an early grave, was books. He had bookshelves everywhere in his apartment. His dining room had been lined with shelves, and his living room had shelves where his couch used to be. The bedroom had shelves too, and all were filled to capacity. His brother had said that he lived like a monRecantation


My CryListening, but never heard But where does that fault lie Ear bent down to hear the purge Of those who need to cryMy Cry
None to notice pain that's hidden Deep within the core Shown to who? Who cares to see? What lies behind that door.
All the light is given out And only dark remains The quiet still of silence Holds all the peace and pain.
Alone, and sometimes lonely A touch craved but never felt A call, if given, falls unaswered This is the hand that's dealt.
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Into the Moonlight: Vol. I and II | Writing Goober
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