You say I hold a lot of my feelings in. But could you stand to take them on again? Sometimes I think you'd rather now know what terrible thoughts run rampid through this head. Hell, I'd rather not know about them either, but they linger in my head, sometimes for days on end. And this half-assed way of communication, this diary, my diary, is only my introduction to you, to inquiring as to whether or not you would want to take me in again.

regress /progress