…is a terrible thing to waste.
…is a blessing in disguise.
…is a waste of time, a thought repeated in your head until you have no space or minutes for new thoughts.
It’s a burden.
It’s our safe zone of moral superiority. Our comeback to which the other can never retort.
It fills you up and eats away.
…it’s sometimes exactly what you need.
…is 335 days a week long.
…is felt stronger than it might have been heard.
…torments you for as long as your attention span.
…can make you feel more real.
Sometimes we only know we exist because we feel the weight of the secrets we carry.