This story from the vault contains the amount nonsense, delusion, and splash of wisdom that only writing something half asleep so late that its early can produce. It was composed at approximately half-past 2AM on January 10th, 2023.
This short story was uploaded to Google Docs on May 7th, 2012, but was likely written much earlier. It is one of my Stories From The Vault.
My love is constant & chaos.
It lies beneath my skin.
It reassures me I’m not alone.
It chips away at hatred within.
What does it mean to be a good friend to someone? More to the point, what is friendship? Is it something we are always born into, or something that we choose?
In my course of figuring out what I want to do with my life I’ve been digging through old files of mine, and I think I’ve found some interesting treasures to share.