every face was sculpted to tell a story.

The world was made to be a never ending novel.

with how many people there are in the world there are thousands, millions, billions of stories being told everyday, behind every window is a story, there are many things you might not know about someone until you open their book of life…

…I feel like there should be more added to this. I feel like there is no ending to this writing piece. If you have any ideas you could help me with finishing this writing that would be very much appreciated!

the silence is frightening. we’ve both said everything but nothing. the distance is only hurting us. I’m not able to fully trust him and rely on him to be there. the silence kills us and we both know.

“starr?”

“i know,” i say as we silently agree. ” bye max,” then he was gone

wake up.

go to school.

eat.

sleep.

repeat.

what starts as a cool shirt in 2018 turns into a blur. An endless mindless blur, going day to day and repeating. The little things in life that make you happy become harder to find. You have no time as it slips through your fingers and the time just runs away.