Greener grass, did you say?

There is this wanting to write, to feel the keyboard under my palm and to see letters appear on the screen from left to right. But the wanting is not matched by a need.

I'd rather read a book, because that does not require great effort. I'd rather lose myself in someone else's words instead of trying to create some kind of pretend emotion from my own.

I want to read, hear, about someone else's discovery of their world, instead of mine. My discoveries aren't at all exciting or insightful - they're not worth discussing. But someone else's thoughts and memories ... now those are worth reading about.

"You are more interesting than you think, Liv."

I disagree.