#thoughts reflections

When the reporter boards I will talk to her I will say something and when we leave I will talk to her I will say something. Does she even know what kind of power she holds. The penmanship will kill me, and the articles will kill me. I can't have this happen again, I am finally more than a tragedy. I wanted my life to be so much better, I don't trust her. I am nervous what if she snaps what if she makes someone else snap, what kind of story is this, why did we give her such a clear weapon why would she want it? What's going on? How do we let her do this? Why can't they just hate her ?

I know they talked about me at one point. They boarded with me and then talked about my downfall. I can't prove it, but I know it. The Cloudcutter attracts all the wrong kind of people.

I was more vibrant once, and I held a girls heart once, or at least I'd like to think I did and I was younger, and I was better, and I dreamed of so many things. I was going to be a mother, a wife. I think I grew out of it, not in a way I'm proud of, but I have grown past the point for that. It's long gone, I'm trailing weeds. Overgrown.

He was on the ship. I promise he was if you'd have seen him. You would have known. He was there. I saw him.

I would be more angry, and I would be harsher, and when the performer stood in front of me and said that the life I thought I was meant to have "wasn't for everyone" I would tell them that I had killed myself a thousand times over to have the talent they had but gotten nothing in return and I would still give them my card but I would not smile and I would not cheer I would watch closer and see how they acted and what they did and I would be just like them and then what could happen. I could be so kind they were so kind I never wrote them back why do I do that