Frustration is

pouring your soul onto a blank page and watching as the page absorbs all your vulnerabilities and presents them for anyone who might stumble upon them to see.

doing this with the hope that one other person might see the inner workings of your soul and relate to them because she recognizes that her soul would look similar on paper.

realizing that very few people will ever see your soul, and even fewer will be able to relate to it.

emptying yourself on to that page, despite this realization because at least–at least–a blank page will receive you.


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