Venting
Venting stories
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mocha
mochaThree sugars, please.
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
Huh.

Venting

What do I do now?

The world's in front of me now. I can walk in any direction I want.

And yet, I'm hesitant to take that first step.

Is this the right direction?

What is the right direction?

Do I really know what I'm doing?

Is this good enough?

Am I good enough?

Who's going to answer those questions for me?

Anyone?

There's no breeze. No sunlight on my face, no rain trickling down my cheeks.

It's like I can't see what I'm about to stumble into.

Am I blind?

No noise either. Just my thoughts, my worries. My problems.

It's quiet.

It's making me nervous.

How many people have had these same thoughts before?

I'm not alone in thinking this, right?

I feel like I've come so far, and yet it's not enough.

I don't want to stop moving, but I'm scared nonetheless.

What imprint will I leave when I take that first step?

What mark can I leave here?

I'm thinking too far ahead. Probably.

What will my friends think?

Will they even notice?

No.

They're all walking their own paths.

I can't bother them forever.

Still.

It's nice, knowing that someone's out there to listen to you.

I don't think I've felt that for a while now.

... Is it nice?

I don't feel refreshed by this.

My throat's gone dry,

and I'm running out of thoughts, running out of ways to distract myself.

No more delays.

First step.

Here we go.

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