Writing on clean sheets
I don’t usually resort to a diary because I don’t keep one
Secrets don’t leave up to their name, especially when spilled on paper; you never know whose hands they might fall into
I’m not confused but distraught and that’s what it is, at least for now
Success seems bleak but I know time would tell, it’s just life getting in the way
Everyone has a story maybe this is the middle of mine
Come to think of it..For what race do we run?
la vanité la vanité
No one can make a choice for you- True, but wouldn’t it be better if you saw the outcome of each alternative
The truth is bitter, Hand me honey
Honey is sweet, but the bee stings
Regret is a complete waste of time and I couldn’t agree more
I Guess, I’ve got to take it one step at a time.