A Flood Of Emotions Rushes Into Me.

Like Driving Along A Bumpy Road And Losing Control Of The Steering Wheel, Tossing You—just A Tad—off The Road. The Wheels Kick Up Some Dirt, But You're Able To Pull It Back. Yet No Matter How Hard You Try To Drive Straight, Something Keeps Jerking You To The Side. You Have So Little Control Over Anything Anymore. And At Some Point, The Struggle Becomes Too Much—too Tiring—and You Consider Letting Go. Allowing Tragedy... Or Whatever... To Happen.

We All Know The Sound A Camera Makes When It Snaps A Picture. Even Some Of The Digitals Do It For Nostalgia’s Sake.

Then Come To Realize That You're Making Mountains Out Of Molehills. Realize How Petty You've Become. Sure, It May Feel Like You Can't Get A Grip On This Town. It May Seem That Every Time Someone Offers You A Hand Up, They Just Let Go And You Slip Further Down. But You Must Stop Being So Pessimistic, Hannah, And Learn To Trust Those Around You. So I Do. One More Time.

All You Really Have... Is Now.

And It Feels Strange, Almost Sad, To Walk Through Ther Empty Halls. Each Step I Take Sounds So Lonely.