Talk Isn’t Cheap
But how could I not talk about it?
Crap, I almost forgot. It’s been there for quite some time but I couldn’t bring myself to face it. It’s about time, yes?
And yet I come up empty. See? No words. I would like to say it’s because I feel that talk is cheap, but I would be lying. And I would just be saying it to cover my ass.
Words are not cheap. They never are.
I live for words.
I live because of words.
Yet here I am again, at a loss for words. Maybe that’s how my mind works: things that matter to me are harder for me to talk about. After all, I keep secrets really well.
That’s the chink in my armor then. Whenever someone asks about something and I have nothing to say, it means there’s so much I want to say. Figures.
Cat got my tongue. Well, I’m blaming it on the cat – and I’m sticking to that story.
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