usually we'd go ahead and get a few words down, maybe even a sentence or two. but that was about as far as it'd get before a hard line would find its way in between the letters. nothing ever really stuck when it came right down to it. i could almost guarantee you that this entire thing up to this point has been written before. more than once, in fact. i'll find you the page. it's no doubt folded up somewhere in between two pages just like this one. somewhere deep in the closet, i'm guessing. that's where most of these digressive, incoherent abortions more than often end up. when it comes right down to it, down to the reasoning behind the discarding of thoughts, well, i think it mostly had to do with whether or not there was any honesty in it all. at least that's what i think. i can't speak for him anymore. i wouldn't want to, anyway. i suppose that if i had to submit a guess i think that, when it came right down to it, he was afraid. i mean, let's be perfectly honest, it takes a little extra something for someone to put themselves out there for everyone to see. and by "see" i, of course, mean "judge". or better yet, "tear to shreds from inside to out". am i wrong? the "vast majority" of human beings love nothing more than to lob gigantic, venomous boulders of judgment towards anyone and everyone. even themselves. it's sad, yeah, but it's the truth. digression, shit. see? this is what happens. in his case, however, we wouldn't have even made it to "hard line". and now i'm using too many quotes. judgment onto oneself. i told you. there's no ending. but him, well, he was the worst. actually, that's probably a bit too harsh. completely harsh, truth be told. but, there it is. the truth. that's what this is all about. truth. and being true. right? shit, i don't even know myself anymore. well, take a chisel to the rock, i suppose. no, i really don't.