elimeny I feel like such a everybody knows this big secret that I am not allowed to if everyone were born with this little section of their brain called "common sense" and i just got the short end of the stick.I want to be my own be defined by my own exhibitions and details and memories and experiences. Oh God, Timothy, how can I make you understand? When one of the things that attracts me to you most is your independence, and now I know it is impossible for you to understand what it is like to be... an idiot. Like me. But at the same time that you are so independent, you are completely dependent upon me. And God knows I love you, but how can i trust a child with a man's heart? especially when I'm that child?

please bear with me. im only half a poem written.
what's it to you?
who go