These days i prefer to write. I’m finding that no listens anymore; unless it’s a whisper, but sadly I have no secrets to share these days.
My friends tell me I am an open book, so it always a surprise how they often fail to understand me whenever I put them to the test.
My first missed concept. Sharing.
Growing up I felt the key to developing a true bond with someone was open communication – a trade. You show me yours and I’ll show you mine kinda trade.
This came from my openess and want of friendship, I wanted to know people, I wanted to unravel there mystery see who is behind the mask, the make up, who existed between the earphones, who lived beneath the Afro. What’s their story and how exactly could I relate.
So throughout high school I had a lot of friends, who were not…
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