lcenta
Everything they owned was meticulously cultivated and styled to give off a certain aura. When you stepped into their home it was like stepping into something out of the pages of a magazine, but few knew the dysfunction and anger that was always bubbling underneath the surface.
Whenever we finish a piece of writing it's never good enough. There's always that urge to change something. We don't know what, but something. There's always something missing, like a puzzle piece stolen in the night. Is it because we can't seem to get past our exceptional standards that nothing is ever good enough for us? Or is it because we want a perfection we feel incapable of giving ourselves?
writing since 2015 · 2 entries · 2 days shown up
each square is a day — lit means you showed up.
2longest streak
2days written
7entries / week
the words you reach for
piecewheneverfinishwritingurgechangemissingpuzzlestolennightpastexceptionalstandardsperfectionincapablegiving