failowrimo.

' In a speeding car in the highway you can’t really feel the time passing by – only the clock hands moving – or the speed – you can only see the trees passing you by in blurs. But if there’s something you can be in a speeding car is in pain; dreadful, depressing pain. There’s no way out – you can’t just leave and slam the door, you can’t yell and then hide the tears in the bathroom, you can’t kill yourself.

(...)

It started out as a hot autumn night, I was so happy. I hadn’t been that happy for long time, I remember that, and even then I wasn’t nearly as happy as I should have been. Had I been less mature, less responsible, less self-conscious, less aware, and I would have been happier. It all started out because a part of me felt lighter, freer – and if I had to take a wild guess I’d say it was due to that look we shared just for a few seconds, it liberated me, and before I would have said it had liberated him as well. '

Beginning and a paragraph towards the ending of my NaNoWriMo (my favorite parts so far), which is currently more like, FailoWriMo.