Have I been too free with myself here? Part of me thinks yes, part of me doesn't care.

The shell doesn't look like it's flaking, and it's been realized that some histories can not be repeated to fix past and current mistakes.

"Without you, nothing defines me. When I'm tripping away, it's only you that can find me."

I wrote a letter to myself, and in it were the truths that I dare not think. To think them, means that those words exist, better to write them down without thinking that way no one gets hurt, or makes a fool out of themself.

� �������� � ���, ����� ��������� �� ���. � ������ ���������� �� ���� ���������, � � ������ �� ���� � ������. ��������� � ���� ������ ���. � �� ������� �� ����� ������ ����.

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then / after