the things that compel me to write are usually the miniscule observations on character that brilliantly glisten when peered at with a tilted head. however, these are usually secrets...
...the ego that pops out in the offhand comment invoking 'us' and 'them'...
...the immaturity evident in a grammatical slip-up...
...the fear of their own romances bolstering their inquiries into my relationship.
secrets are kept as such so as to not embarass the masquerader, and my commentary on the aforementioned matters, however innocent, would be almost certain to offend. and that, friends, is my own secret: although i notice unsavory bits of character all the time, i never point them out, because i am afraid to be attacked.
however, i need to write. so i will work beyond this fear. expect more soon.
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