10:51 PM 12/27/2007
Dear Notepad,
And so the rattling goes. It wouldn't stop. The piercing sound is similar to the shrilling voices that visits her head every night. But she knew the rattling was different from the shrilled voices. The rattling she could understand. The shrilled night visitor she couldn't decipher. The latter drills a hole in her head. The former guns a bullet in her heart.
Emotional. She's too emotional. Ironic, 'cause people would often conclude that her stability goes halfway beyond emotions. It's making her cry. The rattles. It's making her mad. The shrills.
She couldn't take defense. It hasn't been established yet. Or it seems she doesn't own the right to fight. But she tried to no avail because the voices would not even try to comprehend her frail murmur.
So, how does she deal with it?
She writes it here.
Where she prays her words could equate the voice she desires to speak.
