when i think, those thoughts i form into words that would fit so perfectly in the pages of my journal, or in here.
but when it comes down to it, when i get to that point they are gone.

i used to use my words as my saving grace. i used to find writing in this blog, it's own remedy, my own remedy.
but everything looks better on paper.
and...
i just can't give up on this.
because the other day, between mountains and an endless, very winding, road... some came.
and that is a beginning.
and... there is no use turning back now. even if it takes a while. even if it's hard. because, everthing, these days, just is.