compulsive

blogger. I blog randomly because I find that it gives me something to do. I didn't think i'd be searching for myself at twenty. Being independent means having to stand on your own two feet, but being dependent means having to fold your wings. Tucking in your arms and legs, sitting in a wooden chair. The other children run and sit on the green grass. But I am not permitted. Instead, I must walk quietly and sit with my hand neatly clasped. I would like to run and scream and soil my pretty white dress. But I dare not because I fear I am not strong enough to live with the stains. I shall be ashamed for having done what I wanted.