So many things to write that I’d end up writing nothing.
All the different thoughts wooshing and speeding in different directions in my head.
My different thoughts are like kids, all screaming wanting my attention.
Sometimes, I felt like crying of why can’t they tone down, and stay in one corner while I tackle one topic.
But on another note, I felt more crying of why can’t I just let go all of them.
Why can’t I just NOT write them down.
Seriously, I’m the only one who cares about my pity thoughts.
But probably it’s my equivalent to other girls’ obsession over shoes, bags, and such.
I’m obsessed with my thoughts!
They may be pity.
But they’re my most prized collection like that scary looking useless antique jars of an aunt.
I must must MUST HAVE them all.
See how I love my thoughts –
I could even write a book about my thoughts.