be. leave.
i haven’t left brooklyn in 3 days. the farthest i’ve gone from my bedroom is a few blocks down the street. i have no excuse for staying inside when the weather is nothing less that gorgeous but i just can’t get out of the mind set that something is coming and i should stay at a close distance from these four walls for my own protection. i’m safe here away from suicide bombers and terrorists. i quit feeling sorry for you because you’re the victim so i’m the one who will be hiding out. i can’t take away what happened and i’m sick and tired of being the one feeling guilty for all these little white lies created by everybody else. fiction is an extension of the truth and every single one of us have to live with ourselves.
Tags: alec gross, truth