I don’t think I’ve ever -except perhaps when I was twelve or thirteen- written so much about a single story, not to mention with such regularity. Sometimes I can’t believe I’m really doing this, simply because I decided myself uncapable a long time ago. My pride beats fast within my chest and it seems strange that some people are not feeling it – that they are not creating a story right now and still live in peace, like they’re not missing a thing – or that they don’t feel so proud of me that they have the urge to talk about it and boast. This is so important for me, it’s always been so important for me, that it seems strange that people wouldn’t congratulate me like it’s my birthday or one of those events when it’s nice to cheer up and celebrate.
Beautiful, huh? Congratulations, Cos!