Sometimes, the words you read on a page bear no significance to what is being said. Once again, it's just another facade (refer to last prose; involving depression). It's like telling someone something with a meaning or a point you are trying to get across, but because you are too embarrassed or to stupid to say what you feel and the crazy array of words you are rambling on with mean nothing because they seem to get too deep and turn into run-on sentences, just like this. Then you confuse your confidante into a state of anemia. Sticks and stones can break your bones, but words are always deceiving you.

Then you get to the part about emotion. Liek poetry, for instance. You explain your sould and heart and mind in a free form, praying that someone out there can decipher your cryptic cry for help (ah yes, more run-on sentences). But then everyone takes your words, and morphs them mentally to something that seems like it describes what hell was unleashed upon their ass, when sometimes that's not even the case. When sometimes, there isn't even a case.