The White Wall Diaries-

I hold onto fear for I have not been able to speak my mind. What is a home if there is no happiness? What is a home if you feel desprate, broken, or weak. Is it really a home when you dare not speak?

I dream for all our stories untold, but the silence seems to show alot of the secrets the heart holds. What are we but pawns in a game of madness, lost in the visions of what we are told.

Let me show you the ways, let your story unfold. For freedom is buried deep in our souls.