Fuck this coy shit.
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*shrug*
Knives has a frightening point even I don't really want to acknowledge.
Probably because those few I accord respect enough to I also trust enough to be there unfalteringly and shelter my vulnerabilities rather than plunging the blade through them once more.
Thanks though. I do get bored so easily, and so few to really talk to, about anything.
Writing really does just feel like pointlessly talking to oneself, I do that enough in screaming monologues outside or on the porch or up here like a doddering old crazy as is
Haha.