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Showing posts from April, 2012

This is what insanity feels like

I heard you talk. I read what you wrote. I believed every line. I felt every syllable. And then I was convinced otherwise. Now sometimes I go back and read what you said. And I ask myself if you were right. I have internalized your writing to such an extent that part of me thinks its my pain, my anguish, my regret, my mistake. I don't know if you were right or completely insane. But I know that I can never be sure. I almost want to write to you, reach out to you, ask you. But then I let that thought go too. I hope you are happy. I hope you were wrong.