When tomorrow came two days later.

But is even better than ten years later.

My tongue is tied. My fingers don't write too much either. And there is still the confusion. It is so hard to be myself and to share it with the people I want to. I don't even know what I am, so, it's difficult.

I really don't feel like I must be writing right now. My eyes hurt a little. I'm supposed to sleep or something.

Silence leads to pain.

Pain leads to dispair.