I have always been good at being able to write how I feel. Despite never being to audibly articulate my feelings, I can easily express my feelings of solitude and hollowness through the written word. I think that my writing has drastically changed from the start of this book till now. Before, it was easy to write and I also found it easy to detach my feelings and myself, and while those pieces were sad, they sounded certain and as if I understood myself. Now they have developed into something choppy and desperate and they seem very frantic and are filled with uncertainty. It is as if I am searching for my salvation within my own work and I just cannot. I feel that this book may come to an end very soon.
